Coming of Age
by Gilsaragrissom
Summary: Grissom was infatuated with the young CSI he met at the Forensic Academy Conference in the summer of 1999. Little did he know that she would one day be his wife. This is the story of Gil and Sara from the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

**August 1999**

The summer air was hot and crisp. Sara could feel the beads of sweat start to form on the back of her neck as she swept her hair up into a ponytail. She filled her thermostat of coffee to the brim before entering lecture hall 5.

The Forensic Academy Conference was well underway in its second day of the four day conference. She had met a few acquaintances the previous day as she mingled through the various networking events. Truth be told, networking was her least favorite part of the professional world. She hated the small talk, the awkward ways in which people navigated through conversations. But she did enjoy the educational classes, picking the brains of some of the best criminalists in the country. That's why she had agreed to attend the conference in the first place when her Supervisor at the San Francisco crime lab had suggested she represent their lab.

At first, she had been taken aback the he had chosen her to attend. She was still young in her career compared to her fellow co-workers. Sara, 28, was the youngest criminalist currently in the San Francisco lab. She graduated valedictorian of her high school by age 16, then attended Harvard for her four years of undergraduate studies before returning to California to attend U.C. Berkley for Grad school where she began to fellow at the SF coroner's office. It was there that she was scooped up by the criminalist lab as her current supervisor, Dave Crow, saw the potential Sara possessed as a CSI.

She had been with the lab for just under five years now, and Dave had taken special interest in her professional development—hence why he was having her attend these conferences.

She sat in the second row of the lecture hall, near the aisle, and took another gulp of the hot coffee as fellow conference goers filtered through the doors to take their seats.

"Sara!"

She whipped around to the sound of her name being enthusiastically spoken.

She smiled, "Mr. Wilson"

"Doug—call me Doug." He correct. "Is anyone sitting here?" He motioned to the empty seat beside her.

"No, all you." She shifted slightly to allow him into the aisle.

Sara met Doug Wilson yesterday at one of the many networking events she forced herself to attend. She racked her brain to remember a bit about him.

"NTSB? Right?"

He nodded, "Yes, and your the young prodigy of the SFCL."

She blushed.

"I didn't expect to see you in a talk on biological anthropology as it relates to decomposition."

"Me either." He laughed. "But my boss is all about getting a well rounded view of the criminals and their victims so—whether it relates to my day-to-day job or not—here I am. Though I heard this speaker is a bit dull."

"I heard the same." She motioned to her now half full coffee canister. "I've come prepared."

They continued their easy conversation until the speaker appeared to take the podium.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Dr. Grissom and I'm here to talk to you all about what I like to call the 'First Blush' of a crime scene."

Sara's eyes fixated on the man before her. Gilbert Grissom looked to be in his early forties. He sported blondish-brown curly hair with a slight hint of salt and pepper seeping through. His blue eyes sparking with excitement as he spoke on for an hour—and for that hour Sara was completely mesmerized by his breadth of knowledge on the subject, completely mesmerized by him. He closed by thanking everyone for their time.

"Wow. That _was_ pretty dull, hu?" Doug spoke through the side of his mouth.

"I don't know, I kind of enjoyed it." Sara spoke not taking her eyes off Dr. Grissom as he shuffled his papers into his briefcase.

"Spoken like a true prodigy." Doug laughed easily. "C'mon, let me get you a refill of that coffee."

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to stick around here for a bit. I have a few questions."

"Alright, I'll see you around?"

She nodded and headed up to the front of the lecture hall where Grissom still stood. Her ponytail bounced as she walked.

"Dr. Grissom?" He turned to look in her direction. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions, I loved the talk by the way."

He smiled and her heart nearly stopped. That boyish grin made her weak suddenly.

"Of course." He leaned against the podium effortlessly.

She began to bat off question after question as he answered them each one by one. Each answer lead to a follow up question until she ran out of questions on the subject. In a panic, she began to ask about anthropology. He answered those questions just as effortlessly. Questions, of course, she already new the answers to.

Suddenly, both became very aware that the other conference goers had all vacated the lecture hall and the two were left alone. Sara looked down at her feet nervously.

"I'm sorry—I've been taking up so much of your time."

"Nonsense, It's nice to know at least one person finds my talks interesting."

There was that boyish grin again and she could feel her checks flush. She checked her watch, it was nearly 6 p.m. She was desperately trying to get up the nerve to ask him to dinner. But for the life of her, she couldn't do it.

"Its getting pretty late." Grissom noted looking at his watch. Sara prepared herself to part ways and say goodbye. "Are you hungry? We can continue this over dinner."

"I would love that." She smiled from ear to ear, silently thanking the god she didn't really believe in.

"Shall we?" He motioned to the door as he buckled his brief case closed.

They walked down the street to a small corner diner. The day cooled off a bit as the sun slipped down below the horizon. Their conversation was light and casual as they bounced back and forth between topics.

"So how long have you worked for the San Francisco Crime Lab?"

Sara blushed, "Just about five years."

"And before that?"

"Well, I shadowed the SF coroner's office during grad school."

Grissom's eyebrows shot up. "This is your first job out of school?"

"It is."

He laughed, "You're mature beyond your years. I would have never guessed."

"You can't always rely on your first blush, can you?" she quipped effortlessly which earned her another boyish grin from the man sitting opposite her.

The waitress came over and took both of their orders.

The conversation turned to her, her experience and her education. He seemed to have a lot of questions on that.

She shrugged modestly. She hated these conversations more than anything—one's that centered on her educational successes, always having to tiptoe around her upbringing.

"I graduated high school at 16... the rest just fell into place I suppose."

He grew more fascinated by her, her brilliance and obvious aptitude for the field. His mind raced with thoughts of her. She was beautiful, smart, accomplished, ambitions, someone who actually met his intellectual capabilities at 15 some odd years his junior. He sighed mentally, _she was half his age._

Their conversation continued to center around work and education. He told her all about the LV Crime Lab, the team and people he worked with. Some interesting cases came up. It grew dark outside and their plates were cleared but neither had a sense of urgency to leave the other's company.

They walked outside. The cool breeze kissing their faces as they made their was back to the conference's campus.

"I guess I should be heading back..." Her voice trailed as she looked down at her watch. "I can't believe its already 10."

He smiled, "Can I walk you home?"

"Thank you, but thats really not necessary. I live just a few blocks west of here." She stuck out her hand to shake his, "Thank you so much for your time tonight, It was wonderful to learn more about your expertise and experience."

 _She really was mature beyond her years._ He reached out to shake her hand. Skin meeting skin. He was suddenly very aware of the heat rising through his body. Blue orbs turning a shade or two darker as he looked into her eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" He said apprehensively.

Her reassuring smile sinking deep into his eyes, "You will. Take care."

And with that she disappeared down the sidewalk leaving him alone. He breathed out heavily. _I'm in trouble._


	2. Chapter 2

The next day was a bit of a blur for Gil Grissom. He had a few meetings scheduled throughout the day including a consultation with Mr. Crow at the SFCL. That meeting he found himself looking forward to for some reason.

At 3p.m. he walked into the SF crime lab and was quickly greeted by the receptionist.

"I'm here to see Dave Crow."

She accepted his credentials and provided Grissom with a visitors badge. "Take a seat." She motioned to the waiting area, "He should be out shortly."

Down the hall Sara walked alongside a co-worker of hers, Jeffery Tucker. He was a few years her senior but their camaraderie never felt its age gap.

"Look, Sara. All I'm saying is that _if_ the husband did it, he wouldn't just leave the body in the backyard. There would be some sort of freight attempt at a clean up."

"Let's see what the evidence says." She handed him the evidence bag containing a DNA sample for the afore mentioned husband.

The two walked through the lab halls.

"I've got to check my messages." Jeff said to Sara and turned the corner near reception.

"Alright." She looked at her watch. "Can you finish up the rest of processing? There's a lecture at the conference I want to try and make."

"I forgot about that. You came in early to grab a case before heading to the conference? You are such a nerd." He teased playfully as they rounded the corner to reception.

"Dr. Grissom." She halted.

Jeff snapped his head toward the reception waiting area to see the man Sara was addressing.

Grissom stood to greet her.

"Dr. Grissom, this is my colleague, Jeff Tucker." Sara introduced her co-worker without taking her eyes off of Grissom's piercing blue ones.

"How do you do." Grissom extended his hand to Tucker.

"Dr. Grissom. You name is familiar."

"That because he's our consultant for the day." Dave Crow chimed in and extended his hand. "It's excellent to see you again."

"Likewise." Grissom smiled politely.

"I see you've already met Jeff, he's an excellent CSI Level 3. And this is Ms. Sidle, CSI Level 2."

"Yes. We've met." Grissom smiled, returning his attention to the younger woman. "Ms. Sidle attended my lecture at the conference yesterday."

"Ah of course." Dave moved to Sara and gave her a tight side-hug. "Isn't she the greatest."

"She's his favorite CSI." Tucker pretend whispered to Grissom.

"Now, now. I don't play favorites." Dave defended. "But if I did, she would be." He smiled easily as Sara blushed.

She cleared her through awkwardly, "I should get going if I'm to make it to the next set of lectures." Sara said in an effort to slip away. "Jeff, give me a call if you need an extra hand with the processing. I also dropped of the trace work about an hour ago so that should be wrapping up soon." She turned her attention the man beside him, "Dr. Grissom, It was pleasure running into you. I'm sure we'll cross paths at the conference again."

He gave her a small smile and a nod.

She smiled back and turned on her heels to exist through the double doors. Grissom couldn't help but to let his eyes follow as she disappeared through site only to be brought back to reality by Crow's voice.

"Lets chat in my office." He suggested and the two walked through the hall to enter the catty cornered office.

"She is very impressive." Grissom started awkwardly.

"Sara? Like you wouldn't believe. She was working for the coroner's office when I found her. She wanted to be a medical examiner." He laughed a little, "She would have been great at that too. She's got a keen sense of biology, physiology, but her true gift is in physics. Thats how I convinced her to switch over to field work. More of a chance to put that schooling to use." Dave smiled like a proud parent.

"You've really taken her under your wing it seems."

"She's got such potential." He gushed. "Sara's the kind of worker that will give you 130% on her worst days. And she's great energy for the team. It's like having a curve breaker in class, you know? She sets the standard so high for everyone that they all have to rise to the occasion too." Dave leaned in a bit, "Some of my more senior CSI's can't even keep up. Isn't that something?"

"It is." Grissom's infatuation for Sara didn't seem to be fizzling.

"Well anyway, enough about Sara." Dave redirected the conversation to the true purpose of their meeting—consulting on the labs shortcomings and scalability issues as they continue to grow. But somehow, the topic seemed to keep coming back to Sara.

"That's where Sara comes in." Dave continued, "She brings cases to a whole new level of depth with her knowledge of physics... It's interesting too," Dave began to go off on another Sara-centric tangent, "She has a much different view on life than some of the other CSI's here."

"How so?" Grissom inquired, finally able to get a word in edge-wise, though honestly, Grissom enjoyed listening much more than talking.

"Well, she graduated high school at 16 and went straight to Harvard. She moved across the country at 16 years old and attended one the most prestigious schools in the country. She never had an adolescence. She became an adult at 16. What were you doing at 16? All I cared about at that age was what girl to ask to the school dance." Dave laughed again, "And then Berkley."

Grissom shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn't realized just how bright this young woman was. The conversation again took a turn to more professional matters. Grissom received a tour of the lab and met with a few other directors. All in all the meeting lasted about 2 hours.

As they parted, Dave extended Grissom an open invitation to come back whenever he'd like. The two shook hands and he left the building.

Grissom made his way back to the conference. He didn't have plans to sit in on any further lectures, but his feet took him there anyway in hopes of running into Sara again. He sat outside the building sipping his coffee and observing fellow criminalists. An hour past and he still had not seen her. But he was content to sit there in silence none the less.

He didn't see her again that day which left him feeling more disappointed than he cared to admit to himself. The next day was the last day of the conference—a half day. There would be one last opportunity to see her then.

The next morning welcomed Sara with warm sun seeping through the blinds. She stretched herself out of bed and got ready for the day. Her thoughts kept circling back to Dr. Grissom. She couldn't stop thinking of him, his blue eyes, that boyish grin, his seemingly infinite knowledge. She silently hoped to bump into him one last time before he made his way back to Vegas.

She walked the few blocks to the conference center. The air was warm with a light breeze that made it bearable. She entered the building and looked at the directory to find the location of the last lecture she planned to attend. It's topic centered on entomology and Sara was surprised that Dr. Grissom wasn't the one speaking given his doctoral level knowledge of the topic.

"Sara." Her name danced on his tongue effortlessly and she could hear the excited surprise in the inflection. She turned to see Dr. Grissom there, smiling back at her.

"It's me." She quipped back. "It's so nice to see you. Did you enjoy your time at the SF lab yesterday? Dave is great."

"He seems to think the same of you." This caused Sara to turn a few shades red. "He's quite fond of you, you know."

"He's a great mentor" Her modesty pushed forward.

Grissom smiled knowingly, "I'm glad I bumped into you." He suddenly felt very awkward around her.

"You are?" She mused, flashing a gap-toothed grin his way.

"What are you up to now?"

"Well, I was just planning to attend this entomology lecture. It's an area I'm not too familiar with."

"With Gerard? You should save your time."

"Are you offering yours?" She asked in such as flirtatious way that even surprised her.

"Sure. I can teach you a bit about entomology. But it comes at a price."

"What's that?"

"You have to show me around San Francisco." He paused, "I'm always here on business, and have never had the pleasure of actually experiencing the city." he said by way of explanation.

"Deal." She flashed him another toothy grin. The two made their way out the conference doors. She took him on a trolly ride to the downtown area. Walked him through the market district, pointing out some significant sites as they went along. He kept is promise and passed along some beginner knowledge of entomology to her trying his best to steer clear of the more difficult latin. That is until she chimed in and corrected his latin for him.

"You know latin?" His surprise evident in his tone.

"A bit. Not impressively well, but I took it in high school."

"It's impressive to me." He smiled at her as she shyly looked the other way. He looked down at his watch, "My flight is in two hours." He said a bit sadly.

"Well you can't leave without seeing the Golden Gate." She stated mater-of-factly as she lead him in the right direction. They reached their destination about twenty minutes later. She stood in front of him, the Golden Gate behind her.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

"Breath taking." He replied, but he wasn't talking about the acclaimed structure behind her. He watched as she turned back around to view the bridge. A halo of light outlining her shape.

A vendor approached the two and asked if they'd like their photo taken. Sara immediately went to wave off the tourist-vulture but was cut-off by Grissom who said, "Sure, why not?" He moved toward her, putting his hand on the small of her back—an excuse to touch her, he realized. He was now very aware of how close they were to each other. Her warm lavender scent filling his senses. Heat rose through her body like a shockwave at the touch of his hand on her back. She leaned into him and smiled for the photo, knees feeling a bit wobbly.

Grissom moved away to tip the vendor and Sara suddenly felt lonely without his immediate touch. Grissom took the photo from the vendor, handing it to Sara.

"A little momento?" She accepted and thumbed over the image before pulling out a pen from her pack and scrawling her phone number and email address on it. She handed it back to him. His fingers purposefully touching hers as he took the photo.

"Keep in touch." He agreed before getting into a cab easily flagged down and departing for the airport.


	3. Chapter 3

Grissom sat behind his desk in the comfort of his Las Vegas Crime Lab office. He fidgeted with a pen as he read through case files of crimes that occurred while he was in San Fransisco. He had been back nearly a week but still seemed overwhelmed by the amount of files stacked high on his desk. Grissom was the sitting Assistant Grave Shift Supervisor, number two in command to Jim Brass.

He and Brass had shared their difference in the past, occasionally disputing the importance of science and evidence versus police work and interrogation tactics. None the less, the two men shared a simple working friendship. Often mulling over particularly hard to swallow cases with equally hard to swallow whiskey.

Grissom slipped the latest case file into the 'done' pile to his right as he reached for another one from the left pile. He pinched the bridge of his nose before opening the file. A week since San Francisco and yet he couldn't shake the image of the young CSI from his thoughts. He opened the top draw of his desk to pull out the photo of them at the Golden Gate Bridge. He sighed inwardly as he thumbed over her face.

It was rare for a woman to take up so much of Grissom's thoughts. And it had been a long time since one had entered his mind at all. The last, he mused, was a woman his mother had set him up with from Gilbert College. _God how long has it been?_ Julia Holdenwas indeed a beautiful girl. She was smart and well liked in the community. Her being deaf had never mattered much to Grissom and his mother really loved her. They had been on several dates and had been intimate on a few occasions but as he reminisced on this fleeting romance, Grissom admitted to himself that their love-making lacked just that—love. That's why he ultimately broke things off with Julia, much to his mothers protest.

But Sara—Sara was consuming his thoughts in ways no other woman ever had. And he didn't like it very much.

He flipped over the photo, realizing he found it incredibly hard to read her chicken-scratch handwriting. The phone number was useless. He couldn't distinguish a 9 from a 0 or a 7 from a 1. The email was much easier though— SFCrimeLab . com. He began to compose an email to her in his head but after a few minutes he retreated. _What could he possible use as a guise to begin communication?_ The idea of emailing her suddenly became incredibly daunting so he quickly dismissed the thought, put away the photo and continued through the paperwork.

* * *

 **September 1999**

It had been about a month since the Forensic Academy Conference. At first Sara had expected Grissom to call her or send an email her way, but she received neither forms of communication. Initially she had been hurt, then confused. They had such a great week together and she could have sworn as they parted ways that he was feeling the same as she. But, if she were to be rational and realistic—something she often was—she knew it was a silly thought. Here she was, in San Francisco, first starting out in her career nearly 15 years his junior. He was climbing the ranks at the most prestigious crime lab in the country, a decorated criminalist and widely admired by peers for his breadth of field knowledge and innovative tactics. He was a bit quirky, but she liked that. When it came down to it, it was very impractical for anything romantic to happen. So, she detached from the hope that he would call or write and left the week they had together as a fond memory should could replay in her mind.

She sat in the break room, waiting for assignments when the rest of the team filtered in. There was Jeff, Katie, Brian, Derek and then—of course—Dave who entered with a small cake. One candle perched upon it.

Sara flipped her head back and groaned, "Guyssss."

"Happy birthday, Sara!" Dave placed the cake in front of her and grinned from ear to ear. "Make a wish."

Dave was very much like a father to Sara. He truly took her under his wing and praised her accomplishments the way she knew parents were supposed to. She had a deep rooted respect for this man. Dave—53—was actually the age her father would be had he had still been alive. Her mother and father had her at 22 and 25 respectively. Their story was somewhat romantic, at least the version that filled her bedtime stories as a child.

They had met on vacation in Napa Valley where her father, Richard Sidle, was celebrating his 24th birthday with some friends. It was there that he met Laura, "Instantly mesmerized by her beauty and wit" as he told the story. They eloped that Fall and soon after expected their baby girl. Dave looked a little like what she expected her father would have grown to look like. A solid coat of white hair on his head, freckled wrinkles lining his soft face.

"You really didn't have to..." She smiled up at him. The rest of the team clapping rhythmically for her to blow out the candle.

The last time Sara actually wished on a candle was her 13th birthday. She remembered vividly as she wished for "the fighting to stop." She got her wish just a few short months later when her father died.

So she did what she'd done for every birthday since, she pretended to think hard on a wish and blow out the candle. Though this time, she couldn't stop Grissom's face from seeping into her mind as the candle danced out.

* * *

 **October 2000**

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose hard. His team was falling apart. Holly Gribbs laid at Desert Palms hospital in critical condition, Warwick on leave pending investigation, and a lot of murmurs enveloped the halls of the lab. Being promoted to Grave Shift Supervisor should have felt rewarding but it didn't—not under these circumstances. Even still, a year later, and with everything that was going on, he could still only think of one person.

Grissom had eventually emailed Sara. It was back in March, seven months after their initial meeting. Finally he worked up the courage to email her, using a case of his as his stepping stone into conversation.

 _Sara—_

 _I was working a case tonight that reminded me of the conversation we had all those months ago. DB found two miles off the beaten path where we found Scarabaeus Viettei—your joke about George and Ringo came to mind._

 _I hope you're doing well._

 _Best,_

 _Grissom_

They had become comfortable pen pals in the months that followed. She eventually provided her phone number, joking that _"She rushed through elementary school and never truly learned penmanship."_ Though they had never had a phone conversation—That is until now.

Grissom dialed the number on the rolodex before him.

"Sidle."

Suddenly he lost his voice. Hearing hers again, over a year later now made all the memories rush back into his mind. Finally, he regained control.

"Sara—it's Gil... Grissom"

"Dr. Grissom." He could hear her smile through the phone. "Quid debeo voluptatem?" [What do I owe the pleasure?]

"You've been brushing up on your latin I see."

"Only slightly."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Look, Sara..." His voice trailed off, "I need your help."

"Is everything alright?" Her tone suddenly taking a sharp turn toward serious.

"A CSI of mine has been shot... she's in critical condition and we're terribly short staffed. I was hoping you could come in to help us investigate it. You know, to keep it impartial but keep out IA." He paused shortly before adding, "I need someone I can trust."

"Absolutely." She didn't hesitate.

Grissom sighed outwardly, "Thank you. I'll email you flight reservation information."

He closed his eyes briefly as he clicked off the phone. _What was he doing?_


	4. Chapter 4

"Norman pushed. Norman Jumped. Norman Fell..."

"Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs. Roper?"

Her voice made him stop in his tracks. The corners of his mouth upturned and etched a grin onto his face. He could feel his heart constrict.

"Sara Sidle." He breathed, "I don't even have to turn around." He turned on his heels to see her standing there, just beyond the yellow crime tape.

"It's me."

His feet moved him toward her, like gravity being pulled in her direction.

"Still tossing simulation dummies?" He took another step toward her, "You know, there are other ways to tell."

"What? Computer simulation?" He quipped effortlessly, his boyish grin shinning. "No thanks. I'm a scientist. I like to see it. Newton dropped the apple. I drop dummies."

"You're old school." She grinned her gap tooth grin. It had been over a year since their time in San Fransisco together. During that time Sara had done her best to push any romantic notions of Dr. Grissom from her mind. She even went on a few dates with Doug Willson, the NTSB she had met at that same conference. All in an effort to balance herself and view the man standing before her as a professional colleague, nothing more. But, as any scientist will tell you, some hypothesis just don't work when applied to real life situations. And while she managed to do this easily when they were nearly 600 miles apart—In person turned out to be a whole different story. The closer he got to her, the more off balance she felt.

"Exactly. And he was pushed."

"How's the girl?" Sara asked solemnly. She could see Grissom's face change instantly from fun and boyish to series and hurt.

"She still in surgery. She's not doing very well."

"God Sara, I have so many unanswered whys." Her heart fluttered at the way he used her name and she instantly felt ashamed given the topic of conversation. She quickly regained control, putting on her professional face.

"There's only one why that maters now." She was finding it hard to make eye contact with him suddenly. "Why did Warwick Brown leave the scene?" She looked up into his soft blue orbs, his eyes sad as he nodded.

* * *

It ended up being a long shift. Sara worked tirelessly along side Catherine Willows, Grissom's second in command, whom she didn't get off to such a great start with. Catherine, clearly feeling threatened by Sara's presence on the case, was not making it easy on the younger CSI. Eventually though, as the two woman closed in the Holly's attacker, Catherine began to ease up.

The arrest was bitter-sweet for the team and she had only seen Grissom briefly during her 15 hours in Vegas. She grabbed her bag from the temporary locker the lab provided her and made her way down the hall, stopping as she saw him in his office. She knocked lightly on the door frame before crossing the threshold.

"Dr. Grissom."

He waived her in, "You can just call me Grissom." He finally amended. Hearing her continually call him 'Dr. Grissom' made him feel old.

"Grissom." She corrected as she took a seat opposite him.

"Thank you for your help with this."

"I'm sorry our reunion was under these circumstances." She purposefully left 'reunion' ambiguous, not knowing truly where his head was at.

"Indeed." He simply replied.

"Well, my return flight is in a few hours, I should probably get to the airport soon."

"About that." He paused, trying to find the right combination of words in his head. "We're down a CSI. You seem to gel well with our team here."

She waited for him to continue, something few had the patience to do.

"I think you could really like Vegas." He finally added.

"I already have a job." She smiled back.

"This is the best crime lab in the country. It would be foolish to not at least consider." He was really grasping here. Her presence in the lab over the last day filled a void in his life that he didn't want to miss again. _He could do this._ He thought to himself. _She would be a great colleague, and worth intellectual opponent, someone he could mentor. And that could be enough to satisfy whatever hold she had over him._

"Do you know what Dave said to me as I left for the airport yesterday?"

"Whats that?"

"He said, 'Don't let Grissom go and steal you from me now.'"

Grissom let out a small laugh, "That is what I'm doing, isn't it?"

Sara's mind was racing. _Does she leave the only real family she's ever known, her team in San Francisco, the life she built there? Just to uproot to Vegas for a potential relationship with the man sitting before her? No. She couldn't do it. Risk everything she's worked for in some feeble attempt at affection. That wasn't her. She didn't even know the person inside her who began to consider that. But—she began to play devils advocate in her mind—it is the best crime lab in the country. She could learn a lot here._

 _"_ Think about it." He repeated, pulling Sara out of her thoughts.

"I will." Sara promised. He watched as she stood to leave. Their eyes catching briefly as she turned back for one last look at him, smiling before disappearing out of sight.

* * *

"I knew I couldn't keep you here forever, Sara, but I didn't realize this day would come so soon." The hurt in Dave's eyes shown through and it was killing Sara in side. "This is a great opportunity for you though. You'll learn a lot under Grissom."

She nodded.

"Just be careful out there, okay?" He stood and hugged her tightly. "If you ever change your mind, this door is always open for you."

"I appreciate that more than you know, Dave." She hugged him back before pulling away.

"Please stay in touch."

"I will." She promised.

Sara inhaled deeply. Walking through the SF Crime Lab one last time before existing through the double doors. She was sad to leave, but at the same time, should couldn't wait. She felt completely optimistic and—if she were to be honest with herself—getting out of San Francisco would be good for her. Being reminded of her past day in and day out definitely took its toll on her. _This will be good._ She assured herself. _This will be good._

* * *

 _"_ Grissom."

"Gil, It's Dave Crow over at the SF Crime lab. You're stealing my girl."

"It's a great opportunity for her, Dave. I think she can learn a lot here."

"I know she can. Look, Gil, there's a lot to Sara that you don't know about. Do me a favor, just, look out for her for me, will you?"

Grissom was perplexed by the sentiment. _Was this just Dave filling in his fatherly concern? Or was there something more here?_

"I look after all of my team members." Grissom defended, trying to convince himself that Sara wouldn't receive special treatment from him.

"I'm her emergency contact. If something happens, if you think she needs me. Please call me."

"Alright." Grissom still perplexed agreed to do what the man on the other line said.


	5. Chapter 5

**December 2000**

Grissom watched Sara's movements as she walked through Scott Shelton's apartment. Her movements methodical, gliding through the space as she looked for clues of Kate. He watched as she rounded the corner to the back hallway. She could feel his eyes on her but she didn't let on. She sprayed the luminal on the left wall. Nothing. The floor. Nothing. She looked toward Grissom who nodded his head toward the right wall. She sprayed on. The pinkish color began to surface, revealing the streaks of blood.

"I have no idea how that got there." Shelton exhaled. Smirking ever so slightly.

Grissom watched as Sara's eyes turned in intensity. Piercing. "How it got there?" She stood, taking two easy strides toward Shelton. "It got there when you shot your wife in the head, wrapped her in a blanket and dumped her in the mountains!"

Things got heated quickly. Shelton slapping Sara's wagging finger from his face, her shoving him back, "You touch me again—"

"Sara! Sara!" Grissom grabbed her from behind, pulling her back as Brass did the same to Shelton. "Hey, hey" he softened his voice once Shelton was gone, turning her in his arms to face him. "Hey, what is the matter with you?"

She pulled away violently. "I am a woman with a gun and look how he treated me. I can only imagine how he treated his wife." She walked away. His eyes following her, his feet quickly doing the same.

They drove back to the lab in silence for the most part. She stared out the window of the passenger seat, arms folded like a child.

"Sara..."

"Save it. I get it, I was out of line."

A moment passed before she continued, "Guys like that just really get under my skin."

"I can see that" Was all he offered. Until he continued, "Look Sara, there are three types of crimes that get me going: Sex crimes against kids, Drug dealers, and men who hit their wives. I get it, I do. But we can't let these personal issues seep into our work. We can't let that happen again."

She sighed outwardly as she continued to look out the car window. He passed sideways glances at her every now and again until they finally pulled up to the lab parking lot. He reached out to touch her shoulder and felt her flinch below his hand.

"If he's guilty, we will get him." His words were meant to be reassuring, to offer the little amount of comfort he could.

She turned to face him, eyes intense and dark, "He's guilty."

Hours later, Grissom couldn't shake the moment from his head. He sat behind his desk, staring at the linear regression timeline of bugs that turned up a result of 'four days dead'. Not the result they wanted, but the result they were stuck with. His head cloudy with Sara's intensity on replay. He pulled out a number from his rolodex and before he realized what we was doing, dialed.

"Crow."

"Hey, Dave. It's Gil Grissom."

Without skipping a beat, "Is Sara okay?"

"Yes—yes. She's fine." Grissom could hear Dave sigh in relief. Is started a bit awkwardly, "A few months back, when we spoke..."

"Yes?"

"You mentioned something about how there is more? More to Sara?"

"I can't discuss that with you, Grissom. Has she gotten emotional with a case?"

"I can't discuss that with _you."_ he quipped back.

"Your call tells me that she has. She's a good CSI, Grissom. Sure, she's got flaws, like we all do. She'll bounce back. She always does. If she needs me, I'm here. She knows that." He paused, "Take care."

He pinched the bridge of his nose hard. _What was he doing?_ Why was he so concerned with her reaction to this case? If Warrick or Catherine had done that he'd have sent them packing for the day. Was he loosing his perspective here? What was it about her that made him loose his balance? He opened a book in hopes of quieting his mind.

"Hey." He voice pierced through him.

He looked up to see her standing in his doorway, leaning against the frame.

"Hey... You find out anything about Warrick?"

"Um.. I'm here about something else. You know how you always say we're the victim's last voice? I thought it was our job to speak for Kate Shelton."

"You don't crunch evidence to fit a theory."

"What if you hear the victim's screams, in the car at the store..."

"You have empathy for her Sara. You want someone to pay for what was done to her. That's normal." His word choice was purposeful, empathy not sympathy. It was a hunch that he'd hoped was wrong, but she gave no indication in either direction.

She cocked her head to the side, "You want to sleep with me?"

 _Yes, yes I do._ Heat rose within him, imagining what that would look like, what that would feel like. He could deny it to his brain all he wanted, but there was no denying to his body what he desired. "Did you just say what I think you did?" He took off his glasses tentatively, staring into her eyes, trying to read what was behind them.

"That way, when I wake up in the middle of the night under the blankets in a cold sweat, hearing Kate's screams, you can tell me its just empathy."

His mouth opened but nothing came out. She looked down at her feet, something he'd seen her do so many times before when eye contact was too much for her to bare. She looked up at him again, his cheeks feeling flushed but it didn't show. She shook her head slightly before walking out.

 _The blanket._

Later that night Sara got what she wanted. A night with Grissom. She could have done with the pig and bugs but, anything to get a little time with him. She wrapped a blanket around his neck and handed him a thermos of hot coffee. "Thank you."

He smiled back at her with that boyish grin of his. They spent the night chatting, catching up and enjoying one another's company, something they really hadn't done since she moved to Vegas.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you all for the reviews! Love reading your encouraging words. :)

Bare with me though these next few chapters, I know the early seasons when Grissom is oblivious is no ones favorite, but it is important to their story.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **October 2001**

Grissom stood outside the crime scene pacing back and forth. Two fingers pressed against his neck to check his pulse. His breathing finally starting to slow down. There were few times Grissom could recall himself getting visibly agitated at a scene. Losing control was not something he was used to, nor happy with.

"You Okay?" Her voice was soft and her approach gentle.

"95." He responded quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"Normally my pulse is 70. When it gets to 95 I realize how mad I am. I have 10 people working around the clock on this thing. " His speech was rapid and she could sense the unease in his eyes.

"You're too hard on herself."

"No-No! I'm not mad at me! There's a body in there at that guy knows where it is!"

"What's your pulse at now?" She smirked, looking back up at him. He sighed deeply. "You want to take a walk around the block? Get some air?"

"No." his voice softened.

"Clear your head."

"I'm fine."

"Okay." She looked at the man before her. Sara had been in Vegas for exactly one year now—give or take a crime scene. She had indeed learned a lot, like promised. But her life wasn't where she expected it to be. She found it difficult to make friends, and she had no life outside of work. She knew why though. In San Francisco, while she devoted the majority of her time to work, she still had a few close friends outside of the lab halls. Ones that would pull her out of the darkness and remind her that the sun still shines even when she can't see it. But in Vegas—she came to Vegas for two things: Grissom and to learn. Both were technically work related.

She continued to look at him. His head strung down, looking at his own feet. She had tried tirelessly over the last year to push down her feelings for him. But she could not. Suddenly, the urge to touch him took over.

Her hand founds its way to his cheek, cupping it while softly brushing her thumb over his skin. The sudden sensation of her skin on him forced him to look up with a start, staring deep into her eyes. Confusion evident.

"Chalk, from plaster." She offered with a smile and a shrug but he knew what she was really doing. And it had worked. Her compassionate touch had comforted him instantly. He could feel his heart beat slow to normal. He automatically raised his hand up and touched the part of his face Sara had just touched, perhaps trying to hold onto that feeling just a moment longer.

"Better get washed up." She smiled and sidestepped to leave him outside alone again. Grissom closed his eyes briefly, keeping her face in his sight. He had seen this compassion from her before, but It had never been so intimately directed at him.

* * *

Once they were all finished up, Grissom sat in his car before leaving the crime scene. He took a deep breath in and exhaled. He could still feel Sara's warmth on his cheek. He shook his head to try and rid himself of the thoughts that followed. Another sigh.

He watched from his car as she joked about something with Nick across the street. She punched his arm playfully before getting into her Tahoe and peeling off.

 _Sara is off limits._ He reminded himself. He knew how all of his female quests had turned out in the past. Awkward beginning, followed by a few dates, shared meals and company before finally they couldn't play second fiddle to the job anymore, or he decided they were taking up to much of his thoughts. And then what? They wouldn't be able to escape each other, he was her supervisor after all.

He stopped in his thought tracks. _Her supervisor._ Of course nothing could happen between them. It would be the ultimate career suicide. Worse, he mused, then how poorly he played office politics.

He decided right then that he could not work with her anymore. He couldn't trust himself to keep away. Catherine would be a fine mentor, he mused. Maybe without her around, he could think more clearly on his cases.

At first, he did it sparingly. Pairing Sara up with he and nick together. But over time, he found it easy to pass her off to Catherine. He admittedly missed working side by side with her at first, but over time, it became easier to work without her. To see her only when administrative issues were raised. Before he knew it, it had been months since they'd worked closely together. In fact, so much time had passed that Grissom quickly forgot why he couldn't trust himself around her. It would be December before they worked a case together again, a fact that was not lost on Sara.

* * *

 **December 2001**

They rode to the crime scene together in Grissom's Denali. Body found in the middle of a field, at least a 45 min drive from the lab.

The car was silent for the first 10 minutes or so. Sara's head racing with things she'd like to say just to fill the silence. Each time she went to open her mouth, she thought better of it and quickly retreated. She looked over at him, his hair seamed to be getting whiter and he had gained a little weight. The bags under his eyes made it clear that he hadn't been sleeping much either.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while." She finally said, keeping her gaze on him.

"Hm." Was all he offered.

"We haven't worked a case together in months." Her matter-of-fact tone brought Grissom back to why that was.

"I guess not."

Silence fell upon them again.

"This will be nice."

He glanced back in her direction, "It will." His eyes lingered a little longer than he meant to let them before he turned his attention back to the road. Her presence was intoxicating to him, and he was quickly remembering why he distance himself in the first place. He regained control of his thoughts as they pulled up to the scene. Brass was already there waiting for them.

The next few months seemed to fly by. Grissom felt he was doing a good job of working alongside Sara without letting his mind to succumb to the temptations of thinking of her in unprofessional manors. But if he had bothered to consider her or her feelings, he'd realize that opposite was happening.

Grissom's unorthodox supervising methods were weighing their toll on the young CSI. He was short, uncommunicative and widely absent when needed. She had even tried to confront him on the subject a few times but it was clear that he'd rather not make the time to speak with her. He continually dodged meeting requests, passing questions in the halls. Even stopping by his office wasn't working. He always found an excuse to leave. _This isn't working._

Then, the straw the broke the camel's back.

 **February 2002**

"So this is your experiment hu?" Sara walked into the room to find Grissom hunched over the table with a magnifying glass. Studying the flies on a piece of meat intensely.

"So because you found beef in the wound tracks of the victim, you think the meat might be from one of the body farm cows?"

"Did the fly find the beef in the wound and lay its eggs? Or did it bring the beef with it?

"I did an experiment similar to this in San Francisco, except the cross contamination was blood. It wasn't a murder case, but it was instructional.

"None of these beef particles are as big as the beef we found in Mike Kimble's wound track." Grissom straightened himself out and made some notes on the case folder. Sara followed, moving a little closer to him, not even really realizing she was.

"And..." Grissom continued, "I found out the ex-husband is the proud owner of a registered handgun."

"Hm, what does that mean?"

"Means I need to see that gun." He turned to walk away, only stopping in his track as she spoke.

"Um, Grissom? Aren't you going to tell me anything?"

"About?"

"The case... the meat, what you found..."

"I'm working it." His speech short and a little impatient. Grissom hadn't realized it, but the way in which he was distancing himself from Sara was effecting their working relationship to the point where their once flawless teamwork was unrecognizable.

"I thought I was working it with you." The hurt in her voice evident, even to him. But he didn't stop to think about it.

"Yes. You're right, you are." He paused, unsure where to leave things before gesturing back to his experiment, "So... take some photos of the expirement for the DA and then, uh... get rid of that stuff."

"That meat? The raw meat? Me?"

"Yeah." Grissom sighed internally. _What's the problem now._

"How many meals have we shared together?" She was smiling but he new it was just to mask whatever pain he had just caused her.

"I don't know."

"Take a guess, over a year working together."

 _Hadn't it already been a year,_ he wondered. "30." He played along.

"I'm a vegetarian. Everyone here knows I'm a vegetarian. I haven't eaten meat since we stayed up that nigh with the pig. It pains me to see ground beef, forget about cleaning it up."

"Okay... have nick do it!" He thought his suggestion with let this interaction end, but the look on her face told him otherwise.

Sara was left in the room alone, with the sound of flies swarming the ground beef. A deep anger sparked within her. _What was she doing in Vegas? It had been over a year and she realized that she could have climbed the ranks quicker and learned more with Dave in SF then she was here. Did she really uproot her life for him? A man she had only spent two days with, clearly knowing nothing about him._ She felt stupid in that moment. Realizing that she had become one of the girls she had always laughed at, the girl who put herself second to an infatuation with a boy. _That was it._ She thought. _She'll no longer let herself take second place here._

Later that day, she made her way to Grissom's office. Leaning against the door frame, she watched as he read the paper she left on his desk. Finally, she made her presence known.

"What is this?"

"It's uh, just what it says." Sara took a few steps into his office. "It's a request for leave of absence. Six months, year maybe."

"Why." His tone was cold and short. A complete contrast to her current one—soft and gentle. She was clearly at peace with this decision.

"I was thinking of checking out the federal government system—FBI..."

Grissom laughed her off, "We have the best lab in the country." His high horse attitude evident and unwelcome by Sara.

"I need a different work environment."

"What does that mean?"

"One with um, communication...respect."

"Everybody here respects you."

"You don't." She quipped back quickly. Her words stuck through him like a knife. _What could she possibly mean by this?_ And then, as if an internal epiphany, _The ground beef?_

"Is this about that hamburger thing?" But with her next words, he would come to regret his.

"No. Grissom... This is not about that _hamburger thing_. I—I can't believe you. How can you reduce everything I've said to some kind of single quirk." Her patience wore thin now. "You think the problem here is just about me? If you don't sign my leave," She softened, "I'm going to have to quit.

She waited and watched as he battled with what to say. Her face was angry, the knowledge that it was his fault made it worse. She turned to leave.

"Hey Sara!" He called after her, causing her to turn on her heels. He took a deep breath before smiling, "The lab needs you here." But her face and subsequent absence in his doorway told him not to be so proud of in conjured words—they clearly weren't what she wanted to hear.


	7. Chapter 7

**February 2002**

Sara had retracted her request for leave of absence—for the time being she noted. The plant had worked to keep her in Vegas, at least long enough for Grissom to try and make up for his behavior.

"10 minutes un-sportsman like conduct."

"Boys will be boys."

"Yeah. Sounds like these boys went to a fight and a hockey game broke out."

"You just don't like sports."

"That's not true. I've been a baseball fan my whole life."

"Baseball?" Her tone surprised. "Well that figures... all those stats."

His rebuttal, "It's a beautiful game."

"Since when are you interested in beauty." Knowing the man next to her had only show an interest in empirical science—beauty of which would be too subjective.

"Since I met you."

"So we'll start at the opposite goal..." His voice drowned out. He was doing this a lot lately, pushing off these small almost too discrete to detect compliments or gestures of kindness her way and then just as quickly moving on before she could respond. They worked the rest of the case together in comfortable proximity. She recognized that he was trying to be a better supervisor and friend, and so she returned his efforts with patience.

* * *

"Grissom."

"Grissom, It's Dave Crow in San Fran."

Grissom sat up right in his chair. He hadn't spoken to Crow in well over a year. "What can I do for you?"

"After Sara gave back her department issued phone I realized I don't have a number for her. I need to speak with her. Can you have her call me? Its urgent."

"Yeah. I'll-Uh. I'll go find her now, I think she's in layout."

"Thanks—." The line ended and Grissom hung up the phone. He stood and traced the halls to find Sara who was no longer in layout, but was now talking to Greg in DNA. The two were laughing jokingly together as he entered. Greg slapping the smile off his face and turning serious in Grissom's presence.

"Sara." She turned to see him.

"Hey, so Greg got us the DNA results from the epithelials on the sheets—"

"Can I speak to you outside." He cut her off. His tone danced between serious and concerned which ignited instant worry in Sara. She followed him out of the DNA lab. He stood in close proximity to her as he spoke softly.

"I just got off the phone with Dave Crow. He needs you to call him back, he said its urgent."

"Oh. Thats strange." Sara's brows furrowed with worry.

"He said something about how you haven't updated you new contact information..." Grissom watched as realization flooded through her eyes. She quickly left Grissom to seek a quiet, private place to call Dave back.

"Crow."

"Dave, its me." She spoke in a small voice. "Is everything okay?"

"So, your mother's facility called the lab looking for you. I'm guessing you didn't update your employment and contact information with them?"

Sara's eyes shut hard. How could she forget to do that. Worse yet, had it really been two years since she'd paid her mother a visit? She sighed heavily. She was well aware that running away from memories of her childhood were one of the reasons she justified herself moving to Vegas, but this wasn't running away—it was negligent.

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. She had an episode that caused her to be put on new medication but that's all they would tell me."

"I'm sorry you were brought into this. I'll call them now to update that information."

"Nonsense, Sara. It's fine. I'm just glad it was nothing too serious." He paused. "How are you? It's been a while."

"It has, and I'm sorry for that too—"

"Stop apologizing, Sara. I know you've been busy... You sound good."

"I am." She smiled against the phone. "You sound good too."

They exchanged a few pleasantries before hanging up the phone. All she could think of now is that she hoped Grissom wouldn't ask questions. Just as she exited the layout room she had ducked into the take the call, she bumped into Grissom.

"Sorry about that. So—Like I was saying, Greg came back with DNA results on—"

"I know, he filled me in." He cut her off. "Everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." She brushed off the question, "Just a personal matter."

"Right." Grissom was always curious of this special relationship she and her former supervisor shared. _Personal matter._ He realized he knew few personal details about her at all.

* * *

 **October 2002**

Sara had been in Vegas for two full years now. It was finally starting to feel like home. She had a great working relationship with Nick and Warrick, and she and Catherine seemed to be butting heads less and less. Greg was one of her favorite co-workers though. He helped her loosen up and not take everything so seriously, something she really needed in her life.

She and Grissom had continued to work on their professional relationship but it became increasingly clear to her that she needed to move on from any romantic inclinations she had for him. She had this feeling, deep down, that he felt the same way for her, but in the end that meant nothing if he didn't want to act on it. When Hank Pedigrew came along, she saw him as the perfect distraction.

Their relationship looked platonic at first. Movie and dinner dates, flirting at crime scenes. She knew she could never love him, but they were having fun. Something she hadn't had in a long time. She thought back to Doug Wilson. She had recently found out that he had gotten married. Doug—who she had only been out with on a few occasions—ended up being a great friend to Sara. She was happy for him, truly.

The case on hand this shift was a particularly intense one, the prime suspect being movie star Tom Havaford. At this moment, she and Grissom stood side by side in a layout room, discussing the blood spatter on the sheets when they suddenly felt a presence with them. Grissom turned around to see his one time mentor.

"Sorry, Gil. Just doing my job."

"Sara, this is Dr. Gerard. Anything you say to him will be considered testimony."

"Then hopefully," The older gentleman interjected, "You'll say I'm better looking than I appear on TV." Sara smiled politely.

He continued on, discussing the case. Questions directed primarily at Sara.

"I just got photos from the DA of the Victim's bra." Gerard passed the folder to Grissom.

"Well we already know the bra was moved. Sara filed a supplemental report to that effect."

"I know. I just wished she'd...mention her relationship with the EMT who moved the bra."

Sara froze. Her body felt stiff and rigid. While other team member had known about Hank, she had been careful not to talk about it around Grissom. A childish attempt to preserve Grissom's view of her, she supposed, just incase he ever came around to the idea of seeking out something romantic with her.

"Relationship?"

"A Hank Petigrew. We just finished interviewing him. He says he thanked her for letting him move the bra back."

"He was just um, being polite—"

"Doc—" Grissom cut her off before should could say anything incriminating. "Why don't we go chat in my office." Gerard nodded and turned to exit the layout room. Grissom followed, looking back at Sara briefly. He looked disappointed, sad almost and it stung through her core.

* * *

The case had been put to rest just an hour or so ago. The team, feeling defeated and battered sprung back to bring it home. Grissom sat behind his desk now, signing off on the last of the evidence files.

"So..." He looked up to see her in the doorway. "Thats Dr. Gerard?"

"It is."

"You were right, you know." He looked up at her quizzically, "It would have been a waste of time to sit in on that lecture." He was still unsure what she was talking about. "At the conference, in San Fransisco. When you gave me your own entomology lecture instead." She pursed her lips. He stood and grabbed his jacket.

"You have an incredible memory." He said flicking off the office lights and walking toward her. "And Sara, you're allowed to have a personal life. Don't feel like you can't see him again because of this."

Sara shifted awkwardly and nodded before they parted ways to go home.

"Sara!" Just as she was making her way to her car, she turned around to see Catherine jetting toward her.

"What are you doing now?"

Confused, "Heading home."

"Come grab a drink with me. Just one."

Sara smiled and reluctantly agreed, "Alright."


	8. Chapter 8

Catherine and Sara met up at a bar just off the beaten path of the strip. They sat at small high top and took their first gulps of beer. Sara waited, knowing that there was some ulterior motive for the invitation.

"How are you doing?" Catherine probed, but her eyes were soft, concerned.

With a small smile, "Fine."

"Today was rough, for the whole team. They really had us spinning our wheels there for a while." Catherine paused, seeming to give Sara a moment, "Look, I was in court today as you testified."

Sara's eyes went a little wide but she tried to play off how uncomfortable she really was, "Oh—I didn't see you in there... I thought the team was back at the lab."

"They were, I was sitting in the back... Grissom's eyes and ears on the proceedings, you know?"

She nodded hesitantly, taking another gulp of beer.

"That bogus story about chalk dust was really out of line" Catherine started, "God, with all of the shit I do to keep Grissom sane..." She trailed off for a moment. "It's a platonic gesture, and I'm irate that something so minuscule had to be dragged to public. We're a close knit team—there's nothing wrong with that."

"Thanks, Cath."

"Anyway, you and the EMT?"

Sara laughed softly, "Early investigative stages." She offered.

Catherine and Sara sat there for another half hour or so, discussing the case, working in Vegas and exchanges polite small talk. Sara enjoyed herself more that she could have expected she would, particularly given that the two were never considered friends. Friendly was even generous at times.

Sara left the bar that night feeling much better about the day, about being berated on the stand. And it was all thanks to Catherine.

* * *

 **February 2003**

"Are you loosing your hearing?"

"I'm loosing my balance."

"Your sense of self?

"No. I know who I am." His eyes continued to stare at her lips. Here before him, Heather Kessler stood in close proximity. She was exotic and mysterious. In only the brief occasions that their paths have crossed he had come to realize how special this woman was. Incredibly smart, in tune with her sexuality and someone that didn't judge him. He lusted for her. It was the first woman he felt something for who had no connection to his workplace.

"Do you?"

"Yes. I Do." He placed a hand on either side of her face. Feeling her warmth beneath his fingers.

He had found out about Sara and the paramedic nearly 5 months ago. In that time he had pushed all thoughts of her aside. She deserved someone young and attractive that could make her happy. He realized that any freight attempt at being that person for her would end poorly. He managed to convince himself that the feelings he thought Sara might have for him were just conjured up in his head. After all, what would an intelligent, bright, young, caring, beautiful woman want with him? A middle aged, workaholic who was loosing his hearing?

Heather, however, wasn't being rationalized in his head. It had been so long since he had touched another person the way he was touching her now.

"You can always say _stop."_ His voice horse.

"So can you." Her eyes grew in intensity. His body over took him in that moment. He left his rationale at the door and was finally, for once, able to get Sara out of his mind.

* * *

The next morning came awkwardly. He woke strangely comfortable with the actions he carried out the night before. To his surprise, Heather was not in bed beside him. He got up and pulled on the same pair of slacks he wore the previous day. Buttoning and then zippering. Once dressed he made his way downstairs so see her there preparing tea.

Their cordial conversation quickly came to a head when Grissom learned that she was diabetic—a fact that could be paramount to the case on hand. And just as quickly as he had thrown caution to the wind, he reeled it back in—calling things off with Heather forever with his actions.

As he sat outside her house that night, he came to realize how much he would regret those very actions. Heather was mysterious and intriguing. He realized that being with her was like an itch he had to scratch, but his actions that day made him feel terribly. His phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts to see Sara's name displayed on the caller ID. He suddenly felt very guilty, and he couldn't quite understand why. _He had done nothing wrong, not where Sara is concerned at least._ He tried to quiet the feeling but couldn't shake it.

"Grissom."

"Gil, we just caught another one. 419 out in Henderson. Are you available?"

"I'll meet you there." Grissom hung up and sighed heavily. He was sighing a lot lately, he noted.

* * *

 **March 2003**

Only one month later and Sara was also relationship-less. Her and Hank crashed and burned when she discovered that _she_ was the other woman in his long-term serious relationship. She had wished she was surprised but she wasn't. In fact, any relationship Sara had been in that lasted longer than a few dates had always ended in betrayal. Two college boyfriends had done the same. And one after college. In fact, Hank was the first man she'd seen longer than a month since she was 24. A fact she blamed on Grissom, knowing that she was only letting it go on to distract herself from her supervisor.

But as soon as Hank disappeared, her feelings for Grissom bubbled to the surface again.

"Pin me down." She replayed that moment in her head over and over again. His hands around her wrists, his body mere inches from her own. She could almost feel the tickle of his beard on her check. She had stared into his blue orbs, imagining what this scene would look like in private. Then her word vomit, the over talking she so cautiously tried to not do around him. She mentally kicked herself as the moment played out in her head then replayed to the beginning. "Pin me down."

* * *

 **May 2003**

Grissom and Sara and only worked on a handful of cases together since October. She wanted to confront him on the matter. To Sara, this didn't feel like an accident. And she had gone along with it long enough and she was ready to finally say something about it. She sat in the break room eating her lunch when she spotted him down the hall.

 _Now or never._ She reassured herself as she stood to follow him down the call. Each time she got close, another person would grab up his attention. She followed him for a couple of minutes until someone pulled him into his office, closing the door behind them.

She shook her head in defeat. Even getting a few minutes to talk to him was near impossible these days. She turned back to walk to the break room when a rushing heat her face. The sound of glass shattering and raining down on her. She laid now, on the ground, trying to fight her way back to standing. She passed out briefly. Once she came to, she saw greg being pulled away on a stretcher, Grissom diligently by his side. No one had seen her laying there.

She stood, letting the shards of glass fall from her as she walked out of the lab holding her hand. There was commotion outside but Sara couldn't really comprehend it. She was still dazed from the blast so she decided to park herself on the sidewalk and sit on the curb.

A little while later, Grissom spotted her sitting there, childlike almost. He rushed toward her.

"Sara." He crouched down beside her, noticing her reaction time was delayed. "Honey, this doesn't look good."

She looked up at him with near empty eyes, "No, no. I'm fine. Really."

"You need stitches." He urged. Not letting go of her hand as he called over the paramedics. "Is your boyfriend here? Um... Hank right? I can grab him for you if you'd like."

She shook her head.

"He's not here?"

"He's not my boyfriend." She paused, "We broke up over two months ago." A fact she had thought Grissom knew.

He nodded awkwardly in response as the paramedic came and took her hand out of his hold.

* * *

"You, uh, got a minute?"

"I was just leaving." He voice was a bit cold. It often was around her lately and she couldn't understand why.

"Yeah, the board says your off tonight."

"I am."

"Me too."

"You should be on paid leave."

"I'm fine." She assured him.

"You were lucky. And I'm not talking about the explosion." Grissom was referring to the moment earlier in the day when he found out Sara had entered a crime scene to clear it ahead of the police. An action which could very well have caused her her life.

"We got the guy." Was all she had to say on the matter.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Grissom pulled the card from his rolodex that he had been staring at. It was the contact for Dr. Roth, a highly recommended ENT that he decided to finally schedule surgery with. He walked toward her, making his way to leave.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"No..." His voice trailed off in a mix of what seemed to be both amusement and confusion.

"Why not?" She spoke quickly as if she expected his initial rejection. "Let's have dinner, see what happens."

"Sara." He sighed outwardly. "I—I don't know what to do about this." He motioned between them with his hand.

"I do." She held his gaze strongly. "You know, by the time you figure it out, you really could be too late."

He mouth left agape as he watched her walk out down the hallway. The rolodex in his hand quickly reminded him of what he needed to do that day. He couldn't let himself think about that interaction, he didn't have time for it.

She spent that night alone in her apartment like she often did. Feeling foolish for putting herself out there like that for him. But she couldn't shake the look on his face when she said her last words, "You really could be too late." Did that shock him? The idea that she may not wait around. She knew without a doubt now, more than ever, that these feelings weren't one sided. But her patience was wearing thin.

She often took the brunt of his bad moods and he was rarely available as a supervisor to her. She wasn't sure how much more she could take.


	9. Chapter 9

**January 2004**

Grissom was the first on the scene that night. He walked through the house, having strapped on protective booties so as not to contaminate any evidence. Hugging the walls he made his way to the body. A young woman found dead in her shower, he was briefed. He shined his flashlight around the room until he happened upon the bathroom.

And there she was. Body in child's pose, a butterfly tattoo exposed, her eyes open: Brown. Brown hair as well, a little longer than shoulder length. Her face rounded, lifeless. Grissom's heart constricted tightly. His hearing went numb—something that hadn't happen since his corrective surgery last year. His breath fell short.

This woman's lifeless face stared back at him and he felt sick. Grissom pushed to his feet and retraced his steps out of the house. He needed to see her.

Upon emerging from the front door, he saw the team standing on the lawn. Brass in tow. The blue and red emergency lights danced on their faces. She turned toward him, feeling his eyes upon her. He didn't feel the relief he thought he would by seeing her stand there.

His eyes were serious laced with intensity. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her or past her. She turned to see Brass standing behind her but realized Grissom wasn't looking at Brass either.

Brass stepped forward, "You ready for us?"

"For now, no one enters this house except for CSI." He kept his gaze on her, and she could feel it.

* * *

He was keeping her away from the vic and she couldn't understand why. Catherine seemed to agree with his decisions each step of the way and Sara—well she was out of energy for an argument. She continued her shift as the foot solider he was making her out to be.

"You see the vic?" Catherine asked from her seated position on the locker room bench.

"Yeah." Sara smiled sadly, "I took her toe prints..."

"You see her face?"

"No." She lied. She had seen her face. While Sara was check the pipes underneath the house she could hear Grissom and Catherine talk as they investigated the bathroom. Their voices traveled through the pluming, making for a perfect current of their conversation. Sara was an unwitting bystander to the talk that both Grissom and Catherine had thought was private:

 _"Are you okay, Gil?"_

 _"Fine." His voice small._

 _"The victim remind you of anyone?"_

 _She couldn't see it but she could just picture the defensive face Grissom would put on until she was proved wrong by his next words,_

 _"I know." He seemed sad, distracted._

 _"You should take a break."  
_

 _"I can't... I—I just can't ."_

 _"She's alive and well. You saw her outside."_

 _Then their voices became muffled realizing they had walked out to the bedroom._

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought it was you on that slab." Catherine spoke candidly, pulling Sara out of her thoughts.

"Just—if you see Grissom, will you tell him about the toe prints?"

Catherine nodded. This case felt different to her. They had seen much sadder cases in their time. On all accounts, this one shouldn't have been anything special, just another double homicide by a killer with a knack for clean up. But Grissom's reaction to seeing the victim changed the whole tone of the case. _And even if Sara hasn't seen the vic_ , Catherine thought to herself, _she obviously knew something was up._ Grissom and Sara's sad demeanors were chilling.

* * *

Sara got wind of the interrogation that was taking place between Grissom, Brass and the suspect, Dr. Lurie. She made her way to PD to listen in, catching just the end of the interrogation:

"It's sad isn't it doc? Guys like us? Couple of middle aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives. The only time we touch other people is when we're wearing out latex gloves." He paused sadly, "We wake up one day and we realize for 50 years we haven't really lived at all. Then all of a sudden...we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up—somebody we could care about."

Sara instantly realized she was the subject of Grissom's musings.

"She offers us a new life with her. But we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've ever worked for to have her. I couldn't do it. But you did. You risked it all. And she showed you a wonderful life didn't she? But then she took it away and gave it to somebody else and you were lost. So you took her life. You killed them both, and now you have nothing."

"I'm still here."

"Are you?"

Dr. Lurie and his attorney exited the interrogation room. Sara watched as Grissom let out a defeated sigh, hanging his head low as he slumped further into his chair. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes but she willed them away. She watched as Grissom stood to leave the interrogation room. His shoulders still slumped. He look tired.

"Sara."

She turned to face him.

"How long have you been there?"

"Just got here, I thought I'd catch the interrogation, but it looked like you were already through when I arrived." Her second lie of the day.

He nodded and she could see the relief wash over him.

"You look tired." She smiled warmly as she moved toward him. "You should get some rest." They walked together out of PD.

As they walked out she replayed what she had just heard in her head. At first she was angry and hurt _she wasn't worth the risk._ But then she thought about the tenses used _I couldn't do it._ But can he now? The smallest of hopes caused a small pursed smile to form on her lips. _She would be patient._ She decided. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, she knew that he needed to come into findings on his own. Not be pushed toward the right direction. So she'd leave clues, little pieces of evidence and one day hope that he could pull his head out of the microscope and connect the dots.

She would be patient.


	10. Chapter 10

**May 2004**

In the weeks and months that followed, Sara watched as Grissom cleaned up his act. He lost weight, grew scruff and seemed to have recaptured his boyish tendencies. It was clear that he was enjoying his work more, evidenced by talking in riddles, quoting classic books and playing mind games with his CSI to help lead them toward the right path.

 _This,_ she thought, _was the man she fell for back in San Fransisco._ But Sara wasn't doing so well herself. She had promised herself that she would be patient for Grissom to find his way to her on his own, but after another six months had come and gone, she didn't know how much longer she could keep up the rouse. By all accounts, Sara was lonely. She had no social life after ending things with Hank—and, worse yet, she was feeling incredibly unfulfilled at work. Getting passed up for the Lead CSI position was just insult to injury.

Grissom sat behind his desk about an hour after shift had ended. His CSIs had taken Nick out for a celebratory drink, congratulating him on the Lead CSI promotion. But Grissom rarely joined these late night adventures with the team. He was much more content to catch up with some long overdue paperwork that covered the surface of his desk.

His office phone rang twice before he reached to answer.

"Grissom."

"Dr. Grissom, are you CSI Sidle's direct supervisor?"

"Yes."

"We have her down in the precinct now." Grissom pulled off his reading glasses, worry etched on his face.

"Is she alright?"

* * *

"She was lucky she wasn't on the strip. That's highway patrol's jurisdiction. She blew a .09. Technically, she's over. But they just lowered the limit. So we cut her a break, didn't book her. But we did have to call her supervisor." The officer walked Grissom to the holding area were Sara was seated.

"Well thank you, I appreciate the courtesy."

"No problem." The officer walked away, leaving Grissom in the doorway. He walked tentatively toward Sara.

She could feel his presence in the room but was too ashamed to look at him. He sat down beside her and placed her hand in his.

"Come on," His voice was soft and caring, "I'll take you home." Her head bowed in shame.

Eventually they stood, his hand still holding onto hers as they walked out of PD. She didn't say a word on the drive back to her apartment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Grissom finally cut through the silence, fifteen minutes into the drive. They only had about five more before they'd arrive.

She didn't respond, just kept watching the trees pass by through the passenger side window.

"I know you're disappointed about the promotion."

"I'm happy for Nick." She finally offered.

"I know." He paused, trying to pick his words very carefully, "You're a brilliant CSI, Sara."

He turned the corner to her home and parked the car in front of her building. "One day, when you're director of the lab, you'll look back on this moment and realize how silly it all was."

She sighed and shook her head, "You don't get it, Gil."

The use of his first name like that took him aback. She rarely ever called him Gil. He remember how long it took him to convince her to even call him Grissom, rather than Dr. Grissom after they'd first met.

"Tell me."

She shook her head again. "Thank you for the ride. Goodnight, Grissom." and with that she was gone, having disappeared from the car, up the walkway and into the building. He waited there a little while longer to watch as the light in her apartment flicked on, confirming that she had made it inside okay.

Sara was a complex mystery to him. Each time he though he had her figured out, she would throw a curve ball.

* * *

The next day came and Sara acted like nothing had ever happened. She went back to being her same old self, the demeanor she carried the night before as he drove her home was but a ghost. Grissom played along. Sara's passion for cases and victims was a double edged sword to Grissom. It was one of the things he truly admired about her, but also a trait he feared the most. Over the next few months, Grissom watched as Sara balanced dangerously on that line.

* * *

 **February 2005**

Sara sat at her home desk fiddling with a pen in one hand, a beer occupied the other. She couldn't shake the days events from her mind. The blow up at Catherine, the even worse blow up at Ecklie. _What had come over her?_ She was confused, and there was a deep anger boiling insider of her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She turned off her stereo with the remote and made her way to the peep hole.

"Well, if you're here it can't be good."

"Can I come in?" She stepped aside to let Grissom in.

"Want to ask me if I'm drunk?" She smirked awkwardly, holding up her almost full beer.

"We both know that's not your problem." He turned to her, "I spoke to Catherine."

"Ecklie."

"He wants me to fire you."

"I figured." She sighed heavily through her words, defeated. "Can I get you anything?" She gestured to the kitchen.

"Sure, an explanation."

"I—lost my temper."

"That seems to be happening quite a bit." He retorted. "Do you know why?" He watched as she made her way across the room, as if she were trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"What difference does it make? I'm still fired." Her inflection was resigned, empty.

"It makes a difference to me." His soft eyes pierced through her.

"I have a problem with authority. I choose men" She gestured toward him, "Who are emotionally unavailable. I'm self destructive. All of the above."

"Have you ever gone a week without a rationalization?" His question earned a Sidle-famous eye roll. Her amusement absent.

"It's from the Big Chill," He offered, "One of the characters offer a basic fact of life." He watched as she sat down, seemingly bracing herself for a long-winded analogy, "Say that rationalizations are more important to us than... sex even."

"I am not rationalizing anything. I crossed the line with Catherine and I was...insubordinate to Ecklie."

"Why?" He continued to probe.

"Leave it alone." Her quick response, scowled lips and lack of eye contact warned him he was treading deep. But he pushed on.

"No, Sara."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to know why you're so angry." His soft voice was a complete contract to her short tempered one. She just stared at him for a moment, before breaking eye contact and looking down at the ground.

He moved toward her—the first time he had moved since entering her apartment. He took up the vacant seat on the couch adjacent from her.

"Sara," Her name came out of his lips in a near whisper. "It's just me here. I can help you"

"No-no you really can't."

"Why do these cases get under your skin like this?"

"it's as obvious as it seems." Her voice was small but angry. Her head was turned away from him.

"Were you in an abusive relationship?" His words were spoken with great hesitation and she could tell how uncomfortable the idea of that made him.

She shook her head.

"Then what is it?" She could hear the relief in his voice— _Is that what he thought this whole time? That she had been beaten by a boyfriend?_

 _This is it. There's no running from it now._ The one person she never wanted to open up to about her past was now prying the door open and leaving her no choice but to let him in. She looked absently into space as she spook almost robotic like:

"It's amazing the things you remember, you know. There was a smell of iron in the air. Cast off on the bedroom wall. There was this young cop puking his guts. I can't remember the woman who took me to foster care."

Grissom's heart constricted, realizing she was talking about her childhood.

"I can't remember her name. Which is strange, you know, because I couldn't let go of her hand."

"Well," He offered, "The mind has it's filter."

Though she continued as if he hadn't spoken at all. "I do remember the looks. I became the girl whose father was stabbed to death." Finally, she made eye contact at this statement. Grissom tried his best to hide any ounce of surprise or horror from his face as she revealed each piece of information slowly.

She took a moment to collect herself, but even still her voice was rasp, "Do you think there's a murder gene?"

"I don't believe that genes area predictor of violent behavior."

"You wouldn't know that in my house." The tears she had been fighting back began to surface, "The fights, the yelling, the trips to the hospital. I thought it was the way that everybody lived. When my mother, killed my father, I found out it wasn't." The tears flowed uncontrollably now as she tried to cover her face with her hand.

Grissom's hear broke a little more with each tear he watch fall from Sara's eyes. He instinctively grabbed her free hand and held it tightly within his own. The smallest amount of comfort he could think to give her. He sat there a while as she cried out the tears that she had willed away for so long. After a minute or so he moved closer to her, brushing her hair out of her face, but she continued to diver her eyes from his.

He quickly realized he was over stepping some key lines as her supervisor, and even as a friend, but he couldn't help it. He thumbed over her falling tears as they began to slow.

"Thank you." He spoke once her cried subsided. "Thank you for opening up to me."

She looked at him now, her eyes glasses and bloodshot. She could tell he had questions but was trying to be polite.

"Ask."

He looked at her quizzically,

She whipped away a few stray tears. "The floodgates are open—If you have other questions, now's the time to get that answer."

He fidgeted with his hands, "Did he hit you? Your father?"

She nodded, "My mother was mentally ill and undiagnosed. She would conjure up these elaborate stories of people and places that she never knew and have never been to. Their fights centered around this. They would hit each other mostly." She paused, swallowing hard, "I was only injured if I got in the way... It was nothing too serious" she added, "A couple fractured ribs or a broken wrist." After she spoke those words she realized how much she sounded like all the other domestic abuse victims she comes across at work _it was my fault, it doesn't hurt, I interfered, I was clumsy._

 _"_ How long were you in foster care?"

"Only three years. I graduated high school at 16 to get away from it all."

Suddenly it clicked, what Dave Crow had meant by _she never had an adolescence._

They sat in silence for a moment, he finally let go of her hand. She whipped away any last trace of tears from her eyes and ran her hand through her hair. She looked back at him,

"There's something else, isn't there?" Her eyes probing. "You want to know something else?"

He nodded awkwardly. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes. It was like watching a turtle who's nature told him to revert back into his shell, but who desperately fought to fight the urge.

He finally spoke, "What did you mean by, choosing men who are emotionally unavailable?"


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you all for the comments and reviews. Love reading all of your encouraging words and takes on the story. The next few chapters will be fun :) Enjoy!

* * *

Sara erupted in soft laughter. He was left confused and vulnerable by her response but it felt good to see her smile, even if it may have been at his expense.

"Really?" She started, "That's what you'd like to know?"

"It is." He answered simply.

Sara took a deep breath to regain control of herself before answering, "Grissom, we've known each other for six years now. Do you think I came to Vegas for the desert and strip clubs?"

He wasn't sure what to do with her response so he kept quiet, hoping she would continue, which she did.

"We were really good friends at one point. I left everything I ever knew to embark on this new adventure in Vegas when you called and I had assumed that that friendship would be my constant. But it hasn't been."

He looked down at this hands, feeling a bit ashamed. Over all these years, he had done everything he could to shun her from his mind without so much as giving a second thought to her or her feelings. _Was he really that obtuse?_ He lifted up his head to look her in the eyes.

"I'd like to fix that," He spoke softly, "If you'll let me."

He took her deep breath and lack of refusal as a 'yes'.

"With regard to employment..." She winced as he spoke, "I'm not going to fire you. Your behavior is a direct result of my shortcomings as a supervisor, and I am sorry for that."

She opened her mouth to protest the latter sentiment but he continued before she could, "You will need to see a P.E.P counselor though, to make everything look kosher."

"That's fine."

"Good." He smiled softly. "As far as the suspension goes, I can't override Ecklie's call."

"I know, it's fine."

The shrilling sound of his phone going off interrupted them. He apologized to Sara before answering,

"Grissom... Now? Okay— I'll be there in 30." He clicked off the phone and looked back at her.

"It's okay," She assured him. "I'm fine, really."

He stood up, "Take this week to really relax. No police scanner, no forensic text books. And, if you're free tomorrow, I'd like to start amending our friendship with breakfast."

"Grissom, we really don't have to do this."

"I know. I want to."

"I don't need pity."

"I don't pity you Sara. Actually quite the opposite. No—this is me making up for being very selfish over the past five years since you came to Vegas. I'd like to rewind to San Fransisco, but I can't. This is all I can offer now."

She smiled and resigned, "Breakfast would be nice."

His phone again beeping,

"Grissom." She could see his impatience for the person on the other line, "Did you send it over to Hodges? Well do that first. Look, I'll be back soon, just send it to trace and I'll take care of the entomological timeline." He sighed as he closed his phone, then turned to sara.

"Tomorrow?"

She nodded.

He lingered a bit awkwardly as they stood now by the door. He wasn't leaving.

"You should go." She motioned to his phone, still held in his hand.

"Right, right." Another brief hesitation followed before finally he pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her. She was so shocked by the gesture that she didn't hug him back initially.

He could smell her lavender shampoo as her soft curls touched his cheek. The hug was meant to be platonic, comforting, but he realized his mistake almost immediately. She was intoxicating, and he could barely bring himself to end the moment. But he knew if he held on any longer, the gesture would be taken the wrong way so he reluctantly pulled back.

He kept a hand on either shoulder, "I'll take care of Ecklie and Catherine." _God they were so close right now._ He could feel her warmth below his fingertips. His heart was pounding in his chest. "Get some rest." He smiled, trying his best to keep an even keeled composure.

She nodded. "Thanks, Grissom. I—I really needed that." She smiled shyly.

And with that, he was gone. She peaked outside to watch as he walked down the sidewalk to his car before driving off into the dark. His absence left a weird void in the room. She tried to relax again but couldn't seem to quiet her mind. _A bath might do the trick._ She thought.

Sara turned the stereo system back on and ran the bath water. Once full, she slipped into the steaming soapy suds, quickly dunking her head and then coming back up. She closed her eyes, letting beads of water fall over her face, and tried to keep the feeling of his body against hers in her mind. His beard tickling her cheek. His heartbeat against her ear. His hands on her back. His warmth engulfing her.

She smiled sadly knowing that the brief intimate moment was fleeting and unlikely to reoccur. She replayed the moment in her head again, each time sinking further and further into the tub.

* * *

"Meet at Franks at 10am? -G" Her phone buzzed and displayed a text from Grissom.

"See you there." Was her simple reply. She took special care to not get too excited over this. While it was nice that he was making an effort to rekindle the friendship they once shared, she knew that he wouldn't let it go past that. That was something she'd have to live with. And somehow, as she justified it in her mind, simply his friendship could fill the void she needed filled. She could be okay with just that, she'd convinced herself.

She arrived at Franks at exactly 10am to find Grissom already waiting inside. His hands surrounded a large cup of coffee. He looked up to see her enter the diner and smiled as he waved her over.

"Hey."

"Hey." She smiled back, slipping into the booth bench opposite him.

"How was the rest of your night?"

"Good, thanks. I took your advice and got some rest."

"Good." He smiled back at her.

The waitress came over and took their breakfast orders. Once gone they continued their conversation. They discussed some recent cases, literature, Vegas, there tangents went on and conversation was surprisingly effortless. He sat there and smiled as she went on about a story from her time in San Francisco.

"What?" She smiled, noting the goofy grin on his face.

"Nothing." But he couldn't shake the smile off his face.

"C'mon. what?"

"Nothing, really. Its just—this is nice."

She agreed. _This is nice._

* * *

 ** _April_ _2005_**

Grissom and Sara had spent a decent amount of time together outside of work since February. They shared breakfast after shift, the occasional lunch in the lab and had even spent some of their mutual days off together at museums or in parks. Their friendship came effortlessly once they allowed it to blossom.

They kept their friendship low key, even though they were doing nothing wrong. Somehow, doing that just seemed easier.

That April, Grissom and Sara caught a 419 at a state psychiatric center. Interviewing patients proved to be more difficult that anticipated as most of them were mentally unstable. Grissom could sense some tension in Sara as they worked the case, but thought better than to bring attention to it. He had learned quickly from their time together that she could only open up when she was ready, no sooner. And he was sure she could say the same of him.

"I'm going to get someone to open these drawers." Grissom said as he tried for a third time to open the file cabinets in the nurses station. She nodded her head, not looking up from the desk's contents she was examining. Grissom made his way down the hall to talk to a guard stationed there. That guard pointed him in the right direction to someone who could help him access the needed files.

Once Grissom disappeared out of sight, Adam, a prime suspect and ward patient, entered the room. Closing and locking the door behind him. Sara straightened up, feeling someone's presence behind her and turned to find him standing there.

"Are you a spiritual person?" Adam asked as he finished locking the door.

She could feel her hart beating fast as she scanned her peripheral for a guard or nurse to help. "I can be."

"Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? That bad things are there to teach us a lesson?" Sara felt around the desk behind her for a syringe and uncapped it slowly. He took a small step toward her with each word he spoke. "Like, maybe all our problems could be solved by tuning into a higher frequency. There this one guy I read, he believes that illness, anxiety, fear, all occur when people are vibrating at 10,000 cycles a second." Until he was mere steps away.

Sara lunged toward him with the syringe but he quickly over powered her and brought her to her knees, holding a sharp piece of ceramic to her neck.

"Do you think, If I could just get up to 100,000 cycles per second, I'd be in the realm of sound, light and spirit?" Her breathing was jagged as his forearm pressed hard against her neck. "And everything would just be fine." She nodded helplessly, fighting for breath.

"Yeah. Yeah." She gasped hard.

"You know what I think? I think I'm just vibrating at the wrong frequency." She continued to struggle against his hold. She was so focused on the cold ceramic piece being shoved at her neck that she barely heard the door knob rattle. Suddenly, Grissom appeared in the window.

"Do you think I'm smart?" She could feel his tears on her neck.

"Yeah. uh, hu, yes." She kept agreeing with everything he said. She could see Grissom's face clearly now. His eyes lifeless and face numb. She could see his lips moving, mouthing _"open the door."_ over and over again.

"I can't!" The nurse's aid tried again with a different key.

"Just open it." Grissom pleaded, his voice empty and small. He could feel his heart stopping. His hands and feet went cold, the hairs on his neck sprung up straight.

She stopped struggling and just stared into Grissom's eyes, pleading him to help. She flinched and the ceramic tool pressed harder.

"Don't you move a muscle, I will kill you." Adam's voice deepened with anger. He looked at her face and saw her line of vision. "You do not look at him! You keep your eyes on the floor!" He yelled and she obeyed, taking her eyes off of Grissom.

Just then, the nurse ran to the window, "No! Adam!"

His head snapped up in her direction and for a moment, Adam lifted the tool off of Sara's neck to point at the nurse. "You! You go away!"

Sara took her opportunity to jab Adam in the chest and release herself from his psychotic hold. He then tuned to tool on himself and spewed his blood over the floor.

Sara sprinted to the door and flung it open, running straight past the useless nurse's aid and Grissom, down the hall to the gated window. She put her hands up on the gate and hung her head low. Grissom sprinted down the hall after here. He slowed his steps as he approached her. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Sara."

She turned to face him. Her neck was red where Adam's grip was mere moments before. Her eyes looked sad and defeated. He reached out to touch her neck, she flinched slightly as he did.

"We should get you some ice." He spoke softly.

She shook her head, "I'll be fine."

He was always amazed at the strength she possessed to bounce back from the roughest of situations. A trait she must have learned as a child, he mused.

They stood in silence for a few minutes as she stared at the emptiness of the hallway. He waited patiently for her to regain her composure.

"After my father died, my mother came to a place like this for a while for evaluation."

 _Of course she did._ Grissom felt so foolish as to not have connected the dots sooner. He could have easily had Sophia work with him on this and shielded Sara from the torment of revisiting those memories.

"It looked the same, it smelled the same." She continued, "It smelled like lies.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She could hear the concern laced around his words.

"Crazy people do make me feel crazy." She let out a small awkward laugh.

"If you want, I can have Sophia take your place."

"I appreciate that. I do—I really do. But, I kind of made a decision to move beyond that. And I really want to finish this case."

Before Grissom could respond they were interrupted by an exasperated nurse, "We have rules for a reason." Her voice accusing, "You people come in here disrupting things. This is your fault." She wagged her finger at them.

"Really!?" Grissom's tone surprised, his head tilted.

"You seem to take your job rather personally." Sara chimed in.

"What are you suggesting."

"That you have an intimate relationship with Adam Trent." Sara's eyes were intense and cold.

"That is ridiculous."

"Your lipstick is on his underwear." Sara retorted quickly.

"I gave Robby my lipstick sometimes. Maybe he was wearing it when—"

"We didn't find any on his lips." Grissom interjected.

"Well thats your problem." She said storming off.

Grissom turned back toward Sara. "What do you say?"

"Let's finish this." A determined look in her eye.

* * *

Grissom had a hard time sleeping that night. The image of Sara being held captive by Adam replayed over and over in his head, no matter how hard he tried to will the thoughts away. _She's fine._ He kept reassuring himself, _she's fine._ But he kept tossing and turning none the less. Her pleading eyes ingrained in his memory. The red marks on her milky white skin after she got free. The tone of her voice as she relayed more details of the aftermath from her father's stabbing.

He imagined a 13 year old Sara. A lanky and tall pre-teen with long brown hair. He imagined her hiding under her bed or in her closet with a flashlight, reading books as she tried to drown out the noise of her parents' fights. He imagined what the scene must have looked like from her perspective. How one night the arguing got louder and louder until suddenly there was silence. He imagined her slowly peaking out from closet and making her way to her parent's bedroom only to find her father lying limp on the floor in a red puddle. Her mother over him with a bloodied knife.

He imagined how much courage it must have taken for her to slowly back out of the room undetected and call the police on her own mother. How she managed to graduate valedictorian of her High School two years early while being bounced around from foster home to foster home.

Sara's story was not one of pity or self loathing. It was one of strength and triumph. He realized that not only was Sara incredibly gifted, smart and beautiful—but she was also the strongest person he'd ever known.

He spent the whole night fighting the urge to call her, just to hear her voice an make sure she's alright.


	12. Chapter 12

**May 2005**

"Nick! Can you hear me!? It's going to take us a minute to get you out of there okay? Nick!? Nick!? Poncho! Listen to me!"

Grissom was leaned over the plexiglass coffin pleading for Nick to trust him.

"Put you hand on my hand." Nick calmed down and did as he was told. "Good. Now listen. There may be explosives under the box." Grissom's tone was cool and collected as he couched Nick through what they were going to do to get him out of there. Sara and Catherine could be heard behind him, directing the crew for where the rope and dirt were needed.

They opened the coffin lid and Nick's cries came pouring out. "I've got you, Nicky."

They clipped the rope to Nick's belt, poured the dirt on top and yanked him out. The explosive went off. Nick was found lying on the ground seizing. The next moments were a blur to Grissom. He watched helplessly as the EMTs worked on him, loaded him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Catherine and Warrick jumping in with him.

He stood in silence as he, Brass, Sara and Ecklie watched the Ambulance speed off.

"I want my guys back." was all he said.

The four of them stood there for a few moments longer. Gratitude washing over them that the night had ended the way it did. Knowing full well it could have easily taken a grave turn.

Grissom made his way to his Tahoe, sitting in the drivers seat. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard and sighed. He stared out the windshield for a while, watching the PD crew disassemble. Then one by one he watched as Greg, Brass, Ecklie and finally, Sara drove off.

It took him a while before he could gather the will power to drive, but he finally did. Grissom pulled the car into drive and drove out onto the road. His mind was absent as his body took over, mechanically make the maneuvers back toward the lab.

About forty minutes later he stopped his car and threw it in park. He looked around to realize he had driven to Sara's Apartment. _What was he doing_. He looked up at the building to see her lights on. _She's home._

His feet took him out of his car, up the walkway and into the apartment building. He walked up the two flights of stairs to her floor and knocked on the door.

He could hear shuffling inside. And a few moments later the door opened. He looked up to see Sara standing there wearing a confused look and a blue cotton bathrobe. He could hear the shower water running.

"Grissom... What are you doing here?"

"I—I... I don't know." His eyes were tired and small.

"Come in." She moved to the side and he hesitantly made his way past her. She took in his appearance: tired, slumped over, worry lines etched around his eyes, his hair a curly mess, scruff a little ragged.

"Are you okay?" She touched his arm as she closed the door behind him. He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.

Sara lead him to the couch, urging him to sit. He obliged. She moved to the kitchen, and put up a pot of tea. She then disappeared out of sight. He heard the shower water turn off and a bit of rummaging. A minute later sara emerged wearing more comfortable—and appropriate—clothes. Her hair swept up in a loose bun.

The kettle whistled and Sara rejoined Grissom on the couch, handing him a cup of tea.

"Chamomile." She offered as he took the hot mug, "It's supposed to sooth, relieve stress... anxiety..."

"Thank you." His voice was small.

She watched as he tentatively sipped small amounts of the hot liquid.

"Grissom..." He looked up at her, "Nick's fine."

He nodded.

"I actually just got off the phone with Warrick a few minutes ago. They gave him a sedative to calm him down and are treating the ant bites, but other than that he's completely fine."

He looked up to make eye contact with her, "I just can't shake this feeling..." His voice trailed off, "I've tried, you know."

Sara furrowed her brow. "Tried...?"

"Tried to shake it, suppress it, rationalize it away. But I can't. And I don't know what to do about it anymore. I thought I did—but I don't."

"It'll just take time," She offered.

"That's what I thought, too. I thought that If enough time had passed it would just go away. And now six years later, It hasn't. And I don't know what to do about it."

Sara's face twisted in confusion, "Six years? Grissom, what are you talking about?"

"You." He responded as if it were obvious, and she nearly lost her balance.

"What?"

"You." He repeated. "After everything that's happened over the past 24 hours, when it all came to a head and the relief that Nick is okay washed over me, all I wanted was to see you." He looked back at her again, staring deep into her brown orbs. "You're intoxicating. I can't breathe, I can't think, when I'm in close proximity to you. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He spoke almost mindlessly, then put the mug of tea down on the coffee table and stood, pacing.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm here." He paced with small strides as she watched from her seated position on the couch, mouth slightly agape. He shook his head, "This isn't fair to you, I shouldn't be here."

Sara stood as he made his way to the door. "Gil." He turned to find here standing there mere inches from him. "Gil." She repeated, softer now.

She closed the gap between them with slow deliberate movements. Then placed her hands on his chest, palms down. She could feel his heart beating faster now. She moved her hands up to his neck, his face, the back of his head. Her long fingers intertwining in his salt and peppered curls.

He could feel his breath catch in his throat as he felt her skin on his. It was almost more than he could bare. He looked deep into her eyes.

"Sara, I—" He was quickly cut off by an obstruction—her lips on his. She had leaned in and taken his lips in hers, kissing him tenderly. He was so completely caught off guard that the kiss began one-sided. He was paralyzed as his brain tried to process the sensation that was overcoming his senses.

But soon he gained back control. He could feel her smile against him as he began to kiss her back.

She leaned back, keeping her face mere inches from his as she did. She looked deep into his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she saw relief, relaxation even. He placed a hand on her check, brushing her hair from her face. She leaned into the touch.

"Sara..." He breathed ruggedly. She nodded, as if answering an unspoken question. He leaned back down and kissed her again, this time a bit more forceful, with six years of built up passion finally able to release. She gasped against his lips and leaned further into him.

Part of her needed to speak to him, make sure this was real, that he had made his decision. But she didn't want to stop. She had waited too long for this moment—this moment that she was so sure would never come.

She felt his hands roam, resting on the small of her back, pulling her into him. She stumbled backward, pulling him with her. Leading him down the hall, never breaking the kiss.

He opened his eyes to find himself in her bedroom. Looking down at this woman, this brilliant, beautiful woman he had lusted for for so long. He tried to turn off his mind, to melt into the moment but his senses were heightened and his mind was processing every minuscule detail of each second, each motion, each touch. He couldn't tell if his breath was just ragged or if he was forgetting how to breathe.

She unzipped his jacked and pushed it off his shoulders, leaving it in a heap on the ground. "Sara..." He managed between kisses, her hands making their way under his shirt now. "Sara, Sara..."

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him.

"Sara, wait..."

Her eyes were a shade he had never seen before. Dark pools of chocolate. She waited for him to say something.

"Shouldn't we talk about this?"

She simply shook her head, "No, Gil. We can talk after."

 _After what!?_ His mind was working overtime as he felt her hands make their way to his belt buckle. His eyes widened ten fold. He suddenly realized where this was headed. His breathing quickened.

In one swift movement he laid her down on the bed. He hovered over her, one hand on her check as he kissed her passionately, hungrily, lustfully. Her body arched upward to him.

His fingers made their way to her soft cotton shirt, lifting it up over her head to reveal her soft skin. He trailed kisses across thew newly exposed area. It was more than she could take. She fell numb.

She closed her eyes to take it all in as she made a mental note, _May 22nd... it was a Sunday._


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: This update is a little short, but another one will follow soon.

* * *

She could feel his weight on her thigh, pressing hard against her, throbbing. She moaned deeply, not being able to suppress it.

The gasp he expressed was rewarded with a low, husky laugh from Sara as she slipped her hands under his boxers briefs. She began to work the fabric down his thighs, he helped her the rest of the way out of hast. Her bra was quickly tossed aside and his hands moved to the newly exposed area. Her lips hit his hard, her hands on his lower back pulled him flesh against her.

He thumbed the only fabric that stood between them now. The feeling of lace beneath the pads of his thumb, he could feel her legs tremor.

She breathed, "Gil…" almost pleadingly.

And the sound of his first name on her lips in such manor made his own body tremor.

She sucked in a sharp gasp as he slowly and carefully entered her. Her hands gripped at his back, her short nails against his skin as he moved inside her methodically. Her moans we soft but forceful and only caused him to become more aroused. They moved in unison. She could feel the rumble in his chest and throat even if it wasn't completely audible.

The heat rose through her as her stomach muscles tightened. _She needed more of him_. Her mind felt like mush, her body shaking as they climaxed together forcefully. He continued to hold her as they were, and kiss her with the same passion he had earlier, caress her face lovingly. He buried his head in the crook of her neck surrounded by her soft locks.

No words were spoken. They enjoyed the closeness of one another, the sound of each others ragged breathing beginning to even out. They each laid there, numb with satisfaction.

* * *

It took her a moment, as she gently stirred awake, to realize what exactly the weight around her was. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, filling her senses with his masculine aroma. She felt him readjust against her, his left arm that had already been draped over her abdomen pulled her to him slightly, his fingers brushing soft circles on the skin just beside her bellybutton.

She turned in his embrace to face him, looking up at him. His eyes were soft and a glint of a smile lay in them. They laid in comfortable silence for a few moments. His fingertips continued to gently brush over her back in a small circular motion. She was the one to break the silence,

"What are you thinking?" her voice was small, barely a whisper, but the apprehension in it was loud and clear despite her best efforts to mask it. And it didn't go unnoticed.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips but he said nothing for a short while until he saw the apprehension seep from her last statement and resign on her face.

"Nothing." He spoke simply.

"Nothing?"

He shook his head in small movements against the pillow, "My mind is quiet." He took his hand off her back and placed it on her cheek, pushing a few stray bed-head behaving strands of hair to behind her ear. She smiled at his touch.

"Thank you." he spoke.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, mind racing. Was he thanking her for what had happened, was that all this had been to him?

"For what?" She decided to ask before she let her mind race down a track that was hopefully wrong.

"For not giving up on me."

Relief rushed through her. Once her fears and wrong thoughts subsided she realized how personal what he just said really was. She pursed her lips in a gently smile. She looked past him and noticed the time displayed on night stand clock.

"Shift starts soon." Her voice emanated hints of sadness, knowing her words would cause him to get up, but he didn't immediately.

"Should we..." His voice trailed off, hands fidgeting.

She simply shook her head, "No one has to know... let's just see where this goes, on our own terms."

He smiled and sighed with content, "Okay."

They got up and dressed. Looking at his watch, Grissom realized he'd never make it home in time to shower and change so instead elected to do so at the lab.

"I'll see you at the lab." One hand on the door knob.

"Yeah, you will." She smiled her sidle gap-tooth grin."

* * *

Sara got to the lab and made her way to the lockers, placing her belongings in there and putting on a pair of department issued boots. She got the heads up from Greg that there was a trash run on the list tonight.

"Hey."

Sara turned around to see Grissom toweling his hair dry.

"Hey yourself." She smiled then turned her direction back to her locker. Grissom left just as Greg was entering.

"Hey boss." He spoke as he made his way past Grissom to open his own locker.

"How you holding up, Sar?"

She looked up to see greg standing there and smiled. "I'm good. Have you been to visit Nick yet?"

"No, I'm going to go after shift. Want to come?"

She nodded, "Just let me know whenever you're headed out."

That shift seemed to have flown by. She and greg had come back from the trash run halfway through shift and spent the rest of the night sifting through their findings. Grissom had a 419 out in henderson that he took solo. Warrick and Catherine caught a robbery off the strip, something they could wrap quickly to make their way back to the hospital to see Nick.

* * *

The next few weeks brought with it countless double shifts. With Nick out of commission, everyone was working overtime to make up for his absence. Sara entered Grissom's office to find him seated behind his desk. Glasses perched on his nose as he peered down at a book.

"I got the DNA results." She spoke as she walked in, waiving the paper in her hand. "It's the Mother's."

Grissom looked up, "And that's the holy trinity. Vic's blood on knife mixed with her epithelials. Nice work."

She smiled, "What are you reading?"

"New issue of forensic journal." He shrugged, "You're off tomorrow night."

"I am." She agreed.

"Me too."

Sara pursed her lips in a smile, remembering a similar conversation that took place in the office years prior when she spoke those words to Grissom before asking him out to dinner. Somehow that rejection still stung.

"Would you like to have dinner?"

Her smile widened, "I'd love to."

It had been three weeks since Nick was found, since they spent that night together. They hadn't talked about it at all, nor did either really have plans to. Their working relationship was status quo. They both were doing a good job of maintaining composure and objectivity. They exchanged subtle looks every now and again, but nothing that would cause a team member to think twice on it. Things were good.


	14. Chapter 14

Grissom and Sara met at a small restaurant way off the beaten path, somewhere they were sure no one who knew them would be. It was an intimate but casual joint. There was an odd tension between the two as each tried to fake being relaxed.

"This doesn't have to be weird." Sara finally spoke, clearly referring to the awkward energy between them.

"Right, right." He seemed distracted.

Sara stayed patient, trying to rack her brain of what to do here. Grissom was a unique person. He had a strange mix of personality, being bright, thoughtful and caring while at the same time being distant, illusive and introverted.

Sara had taken the majority of the steps to get them to this point. She had moved to Vegas, she had made her feelings clear from the get go, had patiently waited for him to figure out what it was he wanted. Even when he had come over the night Nick was found, she was the one to make the first move, to lead him to her bedroom, to stop his mind from overthinking on the situation. By all accounts, she had done all the work to get them here. And now, here they were. And she was finding it painfully difficult to figure him out.

Their meal continued with simple conversation. They spoke about work a little bit, she shared some stories from her time at Harvard or in San Francisco. But she could tell his mind was else where.

As their plates were cleared she finally spoke up, "Alright, Griss. What's going on?" She paused, "You know, you asked me to dinner. We didn't have to do this."

His eyes seemed bewildered at her statement, "What do you mean?"

"You seem...distracted" She offered, choosing her words carefully.

He apologized through a sigh, "I'm sorry. It's been a long week."

"I know, I was right there with you." She smiled. "Why don't we go back to my place? Just relax a little... unwind."

"I don't know if that's a great idea..." His voice trailed off, "Maybe we jumped into this too quickly."

Sara stifled a laugh, "You're kidding right? Too quickly? I don't think six years constitutes as quick." She smiled.

"I guess it's all relative to the timeline isn't it? To an astronomer or a geologist, six years is microscopic."

"And to an entomologist?" She quipped back.

He pursed his lips, finally starting to lighten up, "To an entomologist, I suppose it's a half-life."

"So then?" She gestured for them to head out. He took her cue and stood.

"Shall we?"

* * *

The two sat on her couch, sipping tea that she had just put up minutes earlier. It was clear that the new setting helped Grissom lighten up a bit, making their company much more natural and enjoyable.

"It was lucky we both had off tonight, I'm sure that's a rarity."

"Third Saturday of each month."

"Excuse me?"

"We're both off on the third Saturday of each month." He spoke again simply.

She smiled, "You checked?"

"I did."

She took a chance, leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips, only letting it last for a moment before pulling back. A small smile made its way onto his lips.

* * *

 **October 2005**

It had been nearly six months since the two had gotten together. They had a standing date every third Saturday of the month when the schedule allowed for both to be off at the same time. Things were good for the most part, but at times, she could feel him pulling—or rather drifting—away.

She finally gained insight into his state of mind while at a crime scene. The case of a woman seemingly killed by falling up stairs while her husband laid outside claiming to have been asleep.

Sara took the upstairs per Grissom's request. She found three bedrooms, one the daughters, one the husband and the third, the victim's. Grissom appeared in the doorway as Sara investigated the contents of the victim's night stand drawers.

"Strange, a man and a women who sleep in different beds arrange to have a night alone together."

"Maybe one snored? Or liked to work at night. Had insomnia?" She offered.

"Or maybe they were suffocating each other and _he_ couldn't breath."

 _Am I suffocating you_? Sara suddenly felt very self-conscious about their relationship. In the nearly six months that this had been going on, they really hadn't seen each other much outside of work. There was their standing date, of course—which Grissom had initiated—and a couple nights here and there spent together after shift. _Had she done something to make him feel this way?_

Then, like a light bulb clicked on in her head she realized something. It had been a long time since she had let anyone stay the night in her bed, or stayed for the night in someone else's. The last, she realized, was Doug Willson who had woken her up in the middle of the night to inform her of her sleep talking. Apparently, unbeknownst to Sara, she had been talking in her sleep for years. Most likely stemming back to her childhood.

"Sexual lubricant." She spoke looking up towards Grissom, "It's sticky." She paused, "You know, you don't have to sleep in the same bed together to have sex... or have romance."

"I'm going to go see the doctor." He said almost immediately before leaving. She shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts so she could continue to process the room.

* * *

Later that night, after the case was closed and shift was ended, she made her way to Grissom's office.

"Hey." Her voice was small as she entered her office.

"I'm just headed out." He stood to grab his coat.

"Okay."

Grissom zipped on his jacket and made his way toward her to turn off the light.

"You need something?"

"Just thought we could chat."

"We shouldn't do that here."

She nodded knowingly, "We could go some where?"

"I'm very tired." His peculiarity was evident.

"Sure, sure." She stumbled, treading water she didn't want to, "We'll chat some other time." pausing briefly, "Have a good rest." She smiled and walked off. He watched as she disappeared down the hall before flicking the light switch off and following in that same direction.

Sara made her way to her car and slipped into the driver's seat. She sat there momentarily and took in a deep breath. She had thought that getting Grissom to act on his feelings would be the hard part and that everything from there forward would be easy sailing—But it wasn't. Grissom was hard to read and even harder to get a hold of when he didn't want to make himself available. Worse yet, she had a suspicion that he was completely oblivious to it.

Two knocks on the window caused her to snap her head up. There, she spotted Grissom, his knuckles on the glass. She rolled down the window and he leaned in,

"I'm sorry." His voice was as small as his smile. She cocked her head to the side but didn't give him the satisfaction of a response, just simply waited for him to continue.

"I've—I've got a lot on my mind lately and well, I realize that I could be a little more communicative in certain areas."

She pursed her lips as she tried hard not to smile but then became serious "Gil, If there's something I'm doing... something that's making you uncomfortable in any way.. you know, you just have to let me know."

He shook his head, "It's not you. Really." He sighed, "I got a new handbook on my desk that updates the rules and regulations of the department for 2006."

"We already know we're in violation... are you rethinking this?"

"No." He answered quickly, "Just thinking."

She nodded, not knowing what else to say. And then the word vomit, "So, It's not my sleep talking?"

He furrowed his brows hard, "Sleep talking? You don't sleep talk."

"Oh." She shrugged off the conversation, _maybe it's gone away._ She suddenly couldn't remember the last time she'd had a nightmare. Something that she suffered from nightly since her father died, "Okay then. Well... Have a good night." She smiled and started the car, getting ready to throw it in reverse, but Grissom didn't move from his leaned position.

"You uh—you want to come over?" She found the apprehension in his voice endearing.

"I thought you were tired?" Flashing that sidle-smile his way.

"I am." He diverted his eyes for a few moments before he continued, "I think I sleep better when you're there."

That's all she needed to hear, "I'll meet you there."


	15. Chapter 15

**January 2006**

Three months later and things between Sara and Grissom were still a little rocky. He was distant and emotionally unavailable and while Sara was doing everything in her power to maintain her patience and understanding, it was wearing thin.

She was spending a lot of time with Greg which was nice. She was unofficially charged with mentoring the green CSI and keeping an eye on him at crime scenes. A task she didn't much mind. She and Greg had a great working relationship that often bled outside of work. The two were often seen sharing breakfasts together after shift.

That night they were investigating the murder of a motocross racer who was stabbed in the garage of his girlfriends house. Sara and greg took the upstairs, inspecting the bathroom and bedroom. Even when she was on cases with Grissom, she didn't seem him often. Only when relaying evidence and findings or working a theory.

At this moment, Sara relayed her findings from the ink on the work order.

"It's like thermite." Grissom spoke.

"Thermite?"

"When you combine two seemingly harmless elements—Aluminum and rust. Press them together, add heat, it creates an explosion so hot it can burn through steel. Powerful but uncontrollable. It burns and burns until it burns itself out. Finally consuming both elements." He shrugged modestly.

"I guess some people just shouldn't be together." Her voice was even keeled and directly aimed at him. His eyes darting back to her to see that he heard her correctly. A look of fear seemed to wash over his face.

Later that night Grissom watched as Sara made her way out of the lab. He followed after her.

"Sara!"

She turned to see Grissom walking toward her and stopped.

"You heading out?"

"I am."

"I'll walk with you." She nodded in agreement as they walked out the lab together.

He took a look around before talking, "Are we good?"

"Of course." She smiled.

He placed his fingers together awkwardly. "Okay, good. good. So... that comment earlier, in layout...that wasn't directed at me?"

"About people who shouldn't be together?"

"Yeah..."

"Was your comment on thermite about us?"

"No."

"Then no." She smiled. She watched as relief washed over his face.

"You hungry?"

"I could eat."

He placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked through the garage to their cars. She leaned into him slightly, feeling his warmth comfort her. They arrived at her and he reached around her to open the drivers door. She slipped inside as he gently closed it behind her.

"Coming over?"

She thought a moment, "Okay, I just need to grab some things from my place. I never have enough time before work to stop back."

He nodded, "I'll see you in a bit."

* * *

In her apartment she stuffed an overnight bag with a change of clothes and toiletries. Quickly watered the plants and checked the mail before locking up and leaving again to make her way to Grissom's town house.

She knocked on the door.

"It's open!" She heard him call from inside.

Sara turned the knob and let herself in. Immediately her senses were overwhelmed by the smell of sautéing vegetables. She closed the door behind her, dropped her bag and took off her shoes. Then, she made her way to the kitchen to find Grissom stirring something on the stove. He had already changed into something more comfortable, jeans and an old sweater. A white apron tied loosely around his waist.

"Something smells amazing." She breathed as she leaned into him from behind, peering over his shoulder at the stove.

"Wine?"

"Sure. I can get it, where is it?"

He gestured with his head toward the wine cabinet. She returned with two glasses of Merlot.

She leaned against the counter, taking small sips of wine as she watched him cook. Feeling her eyes on him he looked up and gave her a small smile before returning to his task.

"I can't remember the last time someone made me dinner." She smiled.

Grissom platted their food and placed them on the set table. She followed him there.

"Thank you." She smiled and held her glass up to him before taking another sip.

"The pleasure is all mine."

They enjoyed their meal together as they bounced theories around about a particularly complex case that had gone cold last week.

"You know," she took another sip of wine, "It almost reminds me of that case where the doctor killed his ex-girlfriend the nurse and her surgeon boyfriend."

Grissom stopped in his tracks. _That case._ That case still haunted him sometimes.

"How so?"

"Crime of passion, skilled and detail-oriented killer. Personal. Couldn't nail the guy even though we knew we had him" She continued. She looked up at Grissom, noticing his face had turned a shade white.

"You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, yes." He recovered, "That case just got under my skin a bit."

"I know." She replied.

He looked up with a start, "You know?"

She shrugged, "I _did_ see the whole interrogation."

Grissom's eyes went wide in response, "You did?"

She nodded, getting up to clear their plates. He did the same.

"It helped me not give up on us." She offered finally, "Helped me ensure that this wasn't just one sided."

He placed the the dishes in the sink and turned to her. His hand made its way to the side of her face. He leaned in, brushing his lips to hers softly. She abandoned her glass of wine on the counter as her hands raised to the back of his head, curling his hair between her fingers. She breathed in, filling her senses with his scent.

She deepened this kiss as he pulled her closer to him, feeling her warmth against him. They left the dishes as they were and stumbled their way to his bedroom. It had been weeks since they were able to be intimate. One of them always getting called in just as things started to heat up.

The back of her legs hit the side of the bed and she fell back onto it, pulling him down with her. She kissed him deeply and passionately as she pulled his sweater over his head and discarded it to the floor. His soft hands grazed the sides of her mid-region, slowly working his way up to her chest. He could feel her arch her back upward little by little. He could feel her moan against him. Feel her stomach muscles tighten at his touch.

Having sex with Sara was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. No woman had ever caused his body to react the way that Sara caused him to. His mind was a haze, and his body on autopilot. Everything she did caused him to loose control. Her slightest touch was almost too much.

He pinned her wrists up above her head as his body took over. He looked deep into her eyes as he entered her. Her eyes always turned a few shades darker and more intense in that moment. It was something he just couldn't look away from. Something that caused him a great deal of satisfaction.

Her hands pinned up the way they were caused him to remember that moment in the lab when she asked him to 'pin her down' all those years ago. He remembered doing as she asked, standing centimeters from her, breathing in her sent. He remembered fantasizing about her that night, what it would have been like to take her then and there.

Sara pulled her wrists from his grasp and rolled him over to be on top, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck as they moved together.

She wanted so badly to whisper the words that danced on her tongue into his ear. But she knew he wasn't ready to hear them yet.

Afterward, she laid there with nothing but the thin sheet covering her. His fingers continued to stroke her softly, up and down her stomach, her pelvic region, her thighs.

Her hand made its way to his hair again, brushing it softly wit her fingers. He was completely and utterly content in that moment. That is until the phone rang.

He rolled over reluctantly to quiet the shrilling noise,

"Grissom." His breath still slightly ragged.

"Gil, It's Brass. I've got a 419 at 228 North Palm Rd... It's about six blocks west of you. You free?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll meet you there."

He turned to Sara, who was now sitting up in bed, having pulled the sheet around her.

"There's a 419 close by Brass called me in for," he began, "We've got two options here. You come work the scene with me or head home... if he drives by the house and see's your car here..."

"Got it. I'll come with."

The two quickly got dressed and made there way to leave. Grissom left first and arrived at the scene to see Brass.

"I called in Sara to help out, she'll be here soon."

"Does that girl ever turn down a crime scene?" He joked.

Shortly after Sara arrived.

"Well that was quick." Brass smiled. The three made their way inside.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I merged a few episodes together here. A notable quote from the show is placed into different a episode to fit the story better here, (nothing pivotal).

Thanks again for all of your comments and support. Enjoy!

* * *

Brass watched Grissom carefully as he made his way through the house and to the DB, a man in is early 20's laying facedown in the living room. Sara followed close by.

 _Something was off,_ Brass noted to himself, knowing full-well it wasn't the crime scene. He watched Grissom carefully again. Sara had made her way to the opposite side of the living room. Looking through the window, at the drapes, shinning a flashlight at an angle on the wall. Brass watched as he watched her. Grissom's eyes followed sara's movements through the room. His eye trail made its way from her feet, up her long legs and finally rested on her face, partially covered by hair as she leaned in to exam some blood spatter on the wall.

A ghost of a smile etched of Brass' lips.

Grissom and Sara worked the scene for the next two hours. Just as they released the body, his phone rang.

"Sara," He called from the other room and suddenly she appeared in the doorway. "Just got a call from dispatch, there's hit and run in a bad area off the strip."

"Nick or Greg available?"

"They wont be able to arrive for another hour. Elements outside, exposed." His voice trailed off, "Let's head over there and let Greg take over here when he's available."

Sara nodded and made her way back to the other room to finish bagging, labeling and organizing evidence.

* * *

They arrived on the new scene to find a young woman dead in the street, An Ally Sullivan, an apparent hit and run victim.

Grissom and Sara worked the new case closely together. He came up next to her as she leaned over the layout room table, going over the desert map. Her sent filled him as he breathed in. His mind suddenly assaulted with the images of their night together, their actions that had taken place just hours prior. Her long legs, smooth and bare wrapped around him.

She turned her head to him an smiled softly.

"I believe our trace results are ready." He breathed into her ear.

"Gil." She moved a step away hesitantly. He quickly realized what he was doing and stepped away from her as well. She looked around to see empty hallways surrounding the glass encased layout room.

"We have to be careful." She urged and he nodded almost ashamed, child-like.

They made their way to Hodges' lab to find him leaned over, taking a sharpie to his hair.

"Vanity, thy name is Hodges." Grissom smiled with amusement realizing the tech was attempting to fill in some if his grey hairs with a sharpie.

"Hodges, don't you know grey hair can be very attractive." She pursed her lips and made eye contact with Grissom. His bewilderment evident, but not as strong as Hodges', he who evidently thought the mild flirtation was aimed at him.

"Hypocrite." Grissom later whispered as they left the trace lab and made their way back to layout. she stifled a smile.

The rest of shift went on status-quo. She made her way to Grissom's office to find a familiar scene. Grissom sat behind his desk, signing off on the night's paperwork.

"Hey." He looked up to see her in the doorway, waved her in. "My overnight bag is still at your house." She spoke quietly. He stood, a boyish grin replaced the more serious facial expression that occupied his face just minutes prior.

"I guess you'll just have to come over."

"Guess so." She shrugged, playing innocent.

"I'll meet you there." He said as he handed her a key, "I just need to finish up the last of these case files.

Grissom spent the next fifteen minutes diligently working through signing off on the night's cases to make it out of the lab. Once done he grabbed his coat and flipped off the lights.

"Grissom." Brass' voice called from the hall. "You headed out."

"I am." Grissom continued to walk with Brass now by his side.

"I can't remember the last time I saw you leave so close to the end of shift." Brass pointed out lightly but was not rewarded by a response from Grissom.

"Got yourself a date?" He joked.

"I do." He quipped quickly, "With my bed." _and Sara in it._ The idea filled his core with great warmth.

"Have a good rest." Brass signed off making his way down a connecting corridor.

"You too."

Grissom made his way upstairs to the bedroom to find that sara was not in bed. His attention quickly turned to the bathroom as he registered the sound of the shower water falling.

He gently knocked on the door before entering. She clearly hadn't heard him as he disrobed and joined her in the shower. She gasped.

"Grissom!"

She laughed in his embrace, feeling silly for being so jumpy.

"I left your key in the front by the coats."

"The key?"

"The one you leant me to let me in tonight."

"Oh right... that's for you. It's yours."

* * *

 **February 2006**

"Jane Doe is Zoe Kessler." Brass spoke as he entered Grissom's office. Grissom had been stood there reading through textbooks and literature on lobotomies. "Mother saw the photo on the news and came in to identify her estranged daughter. I did a DMV check," He continued, "And I have her last known address."

"Good, I'll come with you." He placed the textbook down on his desk.

"There's something you should know. The mother's a friend of yours."

Grissom didn't even bother to look up as he rearranged the books on his desk, _what friends?_ "Who's that." He spoke absently.

"Lady Heather."

Brass attempted to approach the subject delicately but the look in Grissom's eyes told him that it wasn't gentle enough. _Though,_ Brass mused, _he wasn't sure what other way he could have gone about it._

Brass studied Grissom's facial expression for the few brief moments that he held his shock viewable. _Was his reaction because he had not spoken with Heather since he slept with her? Yes he had know,_ he had confronted Grissom on his suspicion at the time, and chastised him for a foolish error in getting involved with a suspect. He remembered telling Grissom that a sports car was a much better mid-life crisis option.

 _Was his reaction because he had, indeed, shared a communication with Heather since then? Or,_ he wondered, _were his new suspicions of a romantic budding relationship between Grissom and Sara correct, and Lady Heather's presence could cause friction on the delicate affair?_

Unfortunately, Brass knew that he wouldn't not easily find an answer to these musings. The two made their way out of the lab and off to the last known address of Zoe Kessler. Brass and Grissom spotted Catherine and sara walking down the hallway.

"Catherine, were headed to the vic's last known address." He motioned his head for her to join them.

The fact that Grissom had chosen Catherine was an observation not lost on the seasoned detective. Neither was the fact that Grissom used the innocuous term 'vic' rather than her real name 'Zoe Kessler.'

Later that night, Grissom waited outside of autopsy knowing that Heather was inside with Doc. Robbins to say goodbye to Zoe. He waited patiently in the hallway just beyond the double swinging doors. She then emerged.

"Hi." His eyes were soft squinted in shared pain, showing his sympathy for her current situation. "I'm so sorry about your loss." His voice small and lined with emotion.

He hadn't seen or spoken to Heather Kessler since the last case she was tangled in.

"But you need to ask me some questions." Heather's gaze was intense and unwavering.

"I'd like to know some things about your daughter..."

* * *

He was keeping Sara at arms length, something that was not lost on her. It had been months since he had treated her this way at work. She tried hard to quiet her mind and inner self-consciousness but was finding it increasingly difficult.

She gave into her curiosity and watched from behind the two-way glass as Grissom spoke with Heather in a smaller interrogation room.

"You have to stay away from him." Grissom warned, referring to her rouge involvement in hunting down Dr. Wolfowitz, the man she was sure was responsible for her daughter death.

Sara could hear the difference in his tone. He was gentle and sympathetic with her. A tone she heard him use rarely.

"You forfeited the right to give me advice some time ago. thank you." She stood and left. Leaving Grissom sitting there alone and Sara standing undetected and confused.

* * *

Grissom ran into Heather in the parking lot. Her eyes empty and speech steady. She told him about Zoe, about why they stopped talking. How it all steamed form her being pregnant with her therapist's child.

"I assumed you might need a DNA sample from Mr. Wolfowitz." Heather then pulled out a ziplock bag from her purse. Grissom hesitantly took it from her.

"How did you get this?" He asked realizing that inside the baggie was a used condom.

"The rage was stronger than the repulsion."

He suddenly felt sick realizing what Heather was confessing to.

"People have used sex for much less worthy causes." She offered as justification.

"When did you...'

"Last night."

"You may not approve, Grissom. But you can't arrest me for sleeping with him. He was consenting." Grissom's stomach turned with the idea. His brows furrowed in anguish as he ran the timeline through his head.

"I am playing by your rules." She continued, "But if I had it my way, this man would die the same way my daughter died."

"He's already dead."

"What?"

"He's been dead for two days." Grissom was still trying to wrap his head around what he was feeling in that moment.

"That's not possible."

* * *

Grissom sped down the deserted highway looking for Heather after finding her necklace in the Wolfowitz house. He jerked her car to the left, spotting something in the distance until he got close enough to see Heather. She had him tied down to the grill of her car and was whipping him mercilessly.

Grissom jumped out of the car and ran to her.

"Heather! Stop it!" He screamed. But his voice was fallen on deaf ears. "Heather!" He tried again, running toward her. When close enough he grabbed the whip from her as she went to whip him again.

"Stop!" He yelled. Tears were running down Heather's tired face. "You cannot do this!"

"Let go!" She pleaded through her cries, tugging at the whip to get it free from Grissom's grasp.

"Heather." His voice softened and he held onto the whip with all of his mite. "I'm saying stop." She finally calmed. He made her way to her and wrapped her into a hug. She sobbed against him.

Sara had gone to Grissom's town house that night. They had had plans to spend the evening together after shift. But she fell asleep waiting for him. He never came home.


	17. Chapter 17

**April 2006**

It was nearly a year since the two got together. Things were rocky at first, both would admit this. While the initial commencement of their relationship had been a heated and passionate event, the weeks and months succeeding it had been awkward and tension filled. It had taken a while for Grissom to get into the hang of being with someone, caring for someone, taking someone else into consideration. And for Sara, she had struggled with letting him in further, opening up to him about how she was feeling. Eventually though, they met somewhere in the middle and things became good, very good.

They spent the vast majority of their time outside of the lab together now, and most of the time in the lab together as well. Things between the two were comfortable. Sure, they still had their moments. Grissom found it hard to find the right words to express himself while Sara continued to over talk enough for the both of them.

This particular day at work was a first for them. The scene was a wedding. A prominent lawyer was killed at her son's wedding reception and it was all hands on deck. He had never given much thought to marriage at all, ever really. The idea of him as a husband had just never crossed his mind. And for the first time ever, he found himself thinking about it, whether the idea of that would be for him. Whether or not he could see himself being that person for Sara.

He watched as she stood at the alter, looking around for evidence. Her beauty breath taking. Just thinking about the idea of marriage was a huge step for Grissom personally, even though he knew he wasn't nearly ready for that _yet_.

* * *

The scene had taken the team 11 hours to process. And that 11 hours of work vanished in 11 minutes at the realization that Nick's car, the car that had every scrap of evidence collected inside of it, was stolen.

The team now sat in the break room, filling out IA report briefings and discussing the case together to rack their memories. Sara was first,

 _"So there we were at Cupid's kiss. A nuptial Neverland where the cheese factor was dangerously high and the flowers were obviously fake. Can the love be real when the flowers aren't?"_

"You really have a thing about weddings, don't you?" Nick interjected.

She did, Sara realized. She had never really taken the time to sit down and mull over her feelings on the matter, but she realized that she did have a thing about weddings. She was never one of those girls to fawn over the imaginary scenario of their future husband and wedding. Sara realized that she would be completely content to never be married. Her parents' marriage outcome was the only reason she needed to site for this.

" _Hey, this is a pretty crazy ass situation hu?" The brides brother spoke to Sara after peeling the other drunk groomsman off of her._

 _"They say it's good luck if it rains on your wedding day..." He continued, "What do you think about a dead body?"_

 _"What do you think?"_

 _"I think my sister's better off... You ever thin about getting married?"_

 _Sara's face contoured in shock by the question from the man standing before her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Grissom walking their way and hoped he hadn't heard the question. The two had never talked about their views on marriage and she was hoping to keep it that way for a long time._

 _"I think Bryce could make an honest woman out of you." Sara giggled at his statement._

"Should I put flirting in the case file?" Nick spoke.

"I was printing. _He_ was flirting." _This was good._ She thought. _She had Grissom had been so careful that it was clear no one suspected a thing._

* * *

Grissom was next to recall that day's scene.

 _"Spring is but a song. Where love and laughter are not wrong. Blossoms of desire do belong and harmonia Axyridis fly along."_

Sara smiled to herself realizing the vast differences on their views. Here, Grissom retold the romantic imagery he perceived upon arriving at the scene. Sara had seen quite the opposite.

Hours later they were all gathered in the break room once again. Grissom entered the room,

"You paged?"

"We think that each of the brides maids is responsible for killing her. Not individually, but each played a role, in kahootz." Greg spoke as he muted the news.

Grissom took a seat at the table, "Did you know, that the original duty of the brides maid was to act as a human shield against the bride's enemies?"

"Women would dress similar to the bride in an effort to confuse and outsmart evil spirits that might try to overtake her on her wedding day." Sara interjected. Grissom nodded.

"Wow. For someone who is anti-wedding you certainly do know a lot about it." Nick's sarcasm was thick as a playful grin danced on his face.

"I am not anti wedding..." She spoke a bit awkwardly, "I'm just anti stupid. You know, people who do things for the sake of tradition with no clue as to why.." Sara could feel herself blush a little. She made a point not to make eye contact with Grissom, afraid of what she might find laying there in his expression.

"Anyway..." Grissom diverted the conversation. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

* * *

Later that night Grissom found himself laying in Sara's bed, pondering about her comments earlier in the day.

"Why _are_ you so anti-wedding?" He asked from his reclined position. Sara emerged from the bathroom, dabbing her face with a washcloth.

She shrugged, "I'm really not anti-wedding..." She tried, not knowing how to compartmentalize her true feelings into a concise answer.

Her response didn't seem to sooth his curiosity. She made her way to the bed and squeezed out a handful of lotion from the bottler on the nightstand. She rubbed the lotion onto her legs, pusher her silk robe up as she did.

"I guess... part of it is the feminist side," she tried, "Woman are forced to give up their name, their identity and succumb to the life their husband wants for them."

"That's an interesting view," He thought about what she had said, "I suppose some may counter that by pointing out that marriage is a display of commitment, love and partnership."

"Some people? Or you?" She smiled as she moved onto the other leg to lather up with lotion. His eyes watched as her hands ran up and down her leg, slowly massaging it in. His mouth slightly agape, he didn't respond.

"Gil?"

"Hm?" He snapped out of his daze as she laughed her low husky laugh at him.

He grabbed her hand and yanked her toward him, pulling her down to the bed, the bottle of lotion fell to the floor.

"What has gotten into you?" She laughed.

He wasn't sure, but in that moment his feelings were so intense that he just had to have her. He pulled at the satin belt holding her robe closed to let the silk fall to her sides. His eyes turned a shade darker at the realization that she wore nothing underneath it.

* * *

 **May 2006**

Grissom and Sara rode to Caprice Unlimited together, following a lead in the case involving a male DB who turned up dead after having what seemed to be the best night of his life.

The car ride was about 20 minutes from the lab. Sara fiddled with the stereo trying to find a good station to listen to.

"Will you pick something and stick with it?" Grissom finally said, "You always circle through the stations three times before just leaving it on the first one you heard." He smiled.

"If it were up to you we'd listen to classical music everywhere we went." She retorted.

"Whats wrong with that?"

"Nothing." She smiled, leaving the knob tuned to the first station they heard after cycling through three times, exactly like he said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Grissom broke it, "You know..." he started awkwardly. She could hear the hesitation in his tone, the hesitation that was only there when he began to talk about 'us' the 'relationship' usually something meaningful and thoughtful. She waited patiently to hear what he had to say as he racked his mind for the right words.

"It's been about a year now."

"Excuse me?" She cocked her head to the side, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Since we've... you know." He motioned between the two of them and suddenly Sara understood what he was saying.

"Has it really?" The shock in her voice was loud and clear.

They pulled up to Caprice Unlimited and got out of the car. They didn't speak another word of it.

"Gil Grissom, this is Sara Sidle, we're with the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

"Anthony Caprice... there's no crime here."

"...their idealized woman, submissive but in control. Becomes the geisha."

"I get it." Grissom spoke with revolution, "you're one of those companies that stages fantasies right? Everything appears real but has all been crafted in advance?"

"It takes weeks to craft these scenarios. I learn everything I can about my client's wants. His desires. All without him even knowing." Grissom subconsciously glanced toward Sara. "Secret wants, desires. They have... a kind of electricity."

"They're often much more visible then we would want them to be." He continued. Sara furrowed her brow and glanced toward Grissom now.

"And Jeff Powell's evening?" Grissom inquired. "The girl, the car, the billiards."

"Everybody likes to be in control. You don't have to be rich to want that." He walked to the printer and handed Sara a piece of paper. "Here's Mr. Powell's schedule, timed down to the minute."

"And his murder?"

"Tragic. But it's not in my script. Now if you'll excuse me I have a hot tub to calibrate." Mr. Caprice turned to walk away. He made it a few steps before turning back around, "Oh, and may all your dreams come true." He shot a look between the two. Sara watched as he walked off, Grissom watched Sara.

* * *

"What do you think about that?" Sara spoke as they neared the lab.

"About?"

"Desires are often much more visible than we'd like them to be." She repeated Caprice's words nearly verbatim.

"We work side by side with trained observers, none of which seem to have any inclination to our... situation." He offered.

"What's your fantasy?" She teased as he pulled the car into the lot.

"You." His tone very matter-of-fact.

It was moments like this, where he would say something so incredibly endearing, sweet, romantic, and deliver it in such a mundane tone that it could easily go missed. It reminded her of the time he had told her he was only interested in beauty after meeting her.

They made there way to the layout room where the team mulled over the case's details.

"Any guy would help a beautiful woman in distress, right?" Nick spoke and turned toward Grissom for validation.

"Some guys are intimidated by beauty." Grissom eyes laid into Sara. She scrunched her face in confusion. "Or fear rejection," He continued. Sara shook her head and looked down at the file in front of her.

After all this time together, she still couldn't figure out why Grissom chose such a public forum to hint at his feelings to her. _Why couldn't he just talk about it with her, in private?_

* * *

"...They probably just thought they taught him a lesson." Catherine finished relaying the cases' events as the team sat around the break room table.

"They did." Grissom spoke, "Don't confuse reality with fantasy." Sara's eyes lifted up and found his from across the table. She pursed her lips in a smile, knowingly.

"But you have to admit," Greg spoke up, "That whole fantasy night thing was a pretty cool gift from a very generous boss." Greg directed his final words as Grissom with a wide grin plastered to his face.

"Greg... don't you have a birthday coming up?" Sara smiled with amusement.

"Why yes, Sara. I do."

She turned her direction back toward Grissom, the two exchanging a look.

"I'm thinking ear shredding rock, a beautiful model, boat loads of sushi and... latex?" Cather guessed.

Greg just simply smiled, "That was last year."

"I think fantasies are best kept private." He looked deep into Sara's eyes as he spoke.

The team left, leaving Grissom and Sara alone in the room. Exchanging knowing looks.


	18. Chapter 18

**May 2006**

Brass was shot. Down on the ground he gasped for air helplessly, blood running down his face. He could feel Warrick holding him down, putting pressure on the wound. The paramedics vignetting across his vision. His vision blurred and his hearing kept going in and out. The darkness started to creep in.

He gasped back to life as the doctors shocked him again.

"Captain Brass was shot twice." Grissom listened as the doctor rattled off Brass' status. "Has his next of Kin been notified?"

"For medical purposes... I have his power of attorney." Grissom spoke up.

"You may have a decision to make." The doctor replied solemnly and walked off.

Grissom breathed in deeply. Brass had made him his power of attorney just a year ago. Grissom had reluctantly accepted at the time. He had never been close enough to anyone before to be that person for them. The only other person he held that power for was his mother.

He wasn't sure how he felt about being in control here. He searched deep within him to keep a calm and level head about the decisions he may have to make.

Before he could reflect for too long his phone rang, dispatching him to a DB on the train tracks. Once there, and the scene was assessed with Sophia and Nick, he called in Sara for assistance.

He didn't really need her there, he realized. Nick and Sophia were plenty of help for one DB. But with everything going on, he knew just her presence would sooth him. And it had.

After processing the scene and going through autopsy with Dr. Robbins, Grissom made his way back to Desert Palms.

"What are his options?"

"We could try to remove the bullet."

"What are the risks?" Grissom's voice was robotic. "What are the odds?" If anyone had overheard the conversation, they'd think him to be heartless and cold. To be indifferent about the detective's life. But it was quite the opposite. In order to make the right decision, based of science, he knew he needed to check his emotions at the door.

"It's your call."

"Do it."

The doctor walked off to inform his staff to prep for surgery.

* * *

"Brass just went into surgery." Greg stood seeing Grissom approach the waiting area.

"You two have known each other for a long time." He observed. Grissom confirmed with a nod.

"We've worked together ever since he came to Vegas from New Jersey."

"Just between you and me... does he always wear a suit?" Grissom looked at Greg quizzically, "Like when you guys go to dinner or the movies... or whatever it is you do when you hang out? 'Cause I've got to tell you... the thought of him in a sweater, kind of freaks me out."

Grissom smiled at the younger CSI, amused by his musings. He shrugged smally, "We dont.. hang out, Greg."

"No kidding. I just assumed."

* * *

Later on, Grissom sat at the chair in front of his desk. He flipped mindlessly through the pages of a book on corsets, trying to concentrate on the case—It was of little use.

Sara's presence was a welcome distraction. She entered his office and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"How's it going? You okay?"

He looked up at her, "I'm okay." He nodded.

"That's a man in a corset." She noted, looking over his shoulder to the book that laid open on his lap.

He relayed some bits of knowledge he was able to obtain while flipping through the book.

"I guess I should feel relieved that sadistic ideas of beauty aren't restricted to women." She sat in the chair next to him and pursed her lips. He nodded in response.

"It's called a wasp waist." He offered, "The wasp is from the insect group hymenoptera... The genitalia no longer functions as a reproductive organ. It's used as a stinger."

"Go in for sex and get stung. Pretty much every man's fear." She bit back a smile, "Where did you learn so much about corsets?"

"I have my sources." He smiled, but the smile soon disappeared.

"Greg called, said Ellie showed up at the hospital. Caused a little scene."

Grissom nodded, "I don't know what to do about her."

"She's a tough one." Sara offered, "But Brass would want her to be treated well, regardless of what havoc she's causing."

Grissom again only returned her words with a nod.

"I didn't know you were his power of attorney."

"Only as of last year, after he visited Ellie in L.A..." His voice trailed off, recalling the awkward conversation.

There was a moment of heavy silence, "Who's yours?" She asked softly, realizing it was something the two never discussed. She watched as Grissom shifted in his seat awkwardly, staring at the corset book blankly.

"Well—you are.. actually." He looked up to catch the surprised look wash over her face.

"I am?"

"I—I should have asked you shouldn't I have?"

"No—I don't know." She laid her hand on his knee in a warm gesture.

"Who is yours?" He finally asked after another brief moment of awkward silence.

"Dave Crow... from San Francisco..." Her voice trailed off awkwardly as if it were something to be ashamed of but Grissom nodded knowingly.

* * *

Their investigation brought Grissom, Sara and Sophia out onto a recreation field. Grissom and Sara stood back to back,

"Ready?"

"Ready."

They counted to ten in unison, walking their paces in opposite directions before quickly turning around and shooting.. their cameras. This was exactly the light mood he needed to get his mind off of Brass' condition. He smiled widely at Sara before turning his attention to the ground to look for clues.

* * *

"Code blue! Code blue" The nurse called just as Grissom and Ellie walked in. They watched helplessly alongside Catherine as the doctors worked to stabilize him.

"Hey." Brass's voice was small and horse.

"Hey. Have some water." Grissom smiled, "Your fan club is here." Brass looked behind him to see all his CSIs there waving. "Ellie was here."

Brass smiled as best he could through the pain, "I saw her." He whispered.

"She'll be back. She just needs some time." Grissom put the water down next to his bedside. "You'll need to stay here for a few nights, the nurses will explain more when you're ready..." His voice trailed off.

He nodded against the pillow, "I figured... hey Gil,"

"Yeah?"

Brass gestured for him to come closer, Grissom obliged.

"Life's short, Gil." His voice was small and lips barely moved. He made sure Grissom's body covered his face from the onlookers just beyond the glass encased room. "Tell me I was right. Tell me you went for it?"

Grissom strained to hear him but still couldn't quite grasp what he was getting at. "Brass, I think you need some rest."

He shook his head, "Listen Gil, It's too short. Don't wait."

"Don't wait for what?" He furrowed his brows deeply and leaned in closer.

"Sara." Brass managed to speak, "Life's too short to pass up a chance at happiness."

Grissom's eyes strained in surprise, "Jim..."

"Shh, shh." He cut Grissom off, "I know. Believe me—I know. Don't wait until it's too late. Let her in."

* * *

Grissom laid propped on his side on Sara's bed. His eyes fixated on empty space as he spoke almost absent-mindedly.

"Most people want to die in their sleep I suppose. Never know it's happening. Like a crime scene: _surprise, you're dead._ I'd prefer to know in advance I was going to die. I'd like to be diagnosed with Cancer actually. Have some time to prepare. Go back to the rainforest one more time, reread Moby Dick. Possibly enter an international chess tournament."

Sara emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but her thin pink, silk bathrobe. He barely saw her as he continued his musings.

"At least have enough time to say goodbye the the people I love..." She knelt before him now, at the side of the bed, and leaned in to get closer to him. Her hands clasped before her on the bed.

She smiled, "I'm not ready to say goodbye." He turned his attention toward her, looking deep into her eyes. A small smile perched on his lips, realizing this was her way of saying she loved him. He could feel his heart fill with warmth.

Grissom reached out and took her hand in his. He stared deep into her eyes for a while. Both content to sit there in silence. She took a hand and ran it through his curly locks, tracing her finger to his jaw bone, running it over his scruff.

"Sara..." He finally spoke, "You and Crow.. you're close?"

She nodded, "We haven't kept in touch much since I moved here... but thats mostly my fault."

"Evidently you were close enough to make him your next of kin..."

She smiled, seeing his insecurity, "I don't get chummy with all of my supervisors" She joked.

"What other supervisors have you had?" He was right. She only had two supervisors in her career, him and Crow.

"Crow is the father I never had the opportunity to have." She admitted. "I do miss him." She added realizing just how long it had been since the two caught up.

Grissom ran his hand through her hair, "If tonight has taught us anything, it's that life is too short to not be with the ones we care about."

Sara placed a warm, gentle kiss on his lips, "You're right."


	19. Chapter 19

**September 2006**

Grissom and Sara leaned over the perfect half inch scale model of now dead singer, Izzy Delancey.

"I think Malibu Barbie did it." She joked as she leaned in closer.

"Then there's more to Barbie than just a pretty face because this is a perfect half inch scale model. And assuming that the killer is the same person who made the miniature..."

"It would have taken weeks ,maybe even months, to create with this kind of detail. It certainly qualifies as premeditation."

"It's real blood." Grissom looked up at Sara as the swab turned pink.

"That, is a level of obsession that gives even you a run for your money." He pushed down a smile, she knew him so well.

After Brass' incident, Grissom and Sara's relationship reached a new depth. It was more mature, loving, and considerate. The next morning after Brass had woken up from his coma, Grissom had suggested that the two move in together.

 _"We're usually together anyway." He justified. "It'd be nice to have one place."_

Sara had been hesitant at first. Voicing her concern about making sure he had his own space to retreat to, that having the same address would raise a red flag on her paperwork. He combatted both of these by having a spare room in his town house that he would make into a study and to get her a P.O. box. And so, a month later they had moved in together. And things were really very good.

"Dusty fell, Izzy Delencey." Sara read the records lining the walls, "I have never heard of him."

"It's probably before your time." He jabbed playfully. The age difference that was once so troubling to him has become an easy source of fun to poke jokes at one another.

"I'll download it."

* * *

"Greg! Great your here." Sara spotted Greg making his way through the scores of crying groupies fighting the yellow tape.

"I can't believe you're leaving Izzy's murder scene!"

"I've got something I've got to take care of. Grissom is in the Kitchen. Thanks for coming in."

Sara peeled off in her car and made her way to a less than nice part of town. She spotted Catherine standing in the parking lot of the Motel, just where she said she'd be.

"Hey! What's going on?" Sara approached Catherine.

"I—May have been rophied and raped... I woke up here."

"What?" The blood from Sara's face drained.

"I improvised a rape kit. Pubic combings, vaginal swabs..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did you call it in?" Sara's voice was sympathetic and soft.

"I called you."

"Catherine... Doing it yourself is going to make anything you get inadmissible."

"I don't want in investigation. I just want to know what happened. Room 229, print it? And um... keep it between us?"

"Okay." Sara agreed and watched as Catherine jumped into a cab.

Sara so desperately wanted to call Grissom. Tell him what was happening, get his advice on how to handle it. But she couldn't betray Catherine's trust.

* * *

She found Grissom in the large layout room. Huddled over panoramic photos of the miniature. He sliced open the Izzy doll as if performing an autopsy.

"The blood matches the victim."

They discussed the case at hand, centering their discussion around motive. Just then Ecklie walked in at full speed.

"Maybe we should release it to the media. Someone may have unwittingly helped create the miniature. Maybe if they come forward that could help us."

"What's the point of gratifying the murderer with publicity?"

"Izzy Delancey is Famous. The press wants answers."

"Don't we all." Grissom smirked back.

Ecklie turned his attention to Sara, hoping she'd give a different answer. "Sara, this is your case too. What do you think?"

"I—Uh... I agree with Grissom." She smiled small and nodded as she looked up at Ecklie.

He rolled his eyes, "Of corse you do." and exited clearly annoyed.

The two were left in the layout room alone once more. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusions as he looked back at her slightly bewildered.

She shook her head, "I don't think... Do you think?"

"No, no. If he knew, he'd be sure to let us know." He seamed to be trying to convince himself of that too./

"Right..."

* * *

"Gil." Sara hurried into his office. Her tone was urgent.

He looked up with a start and peered at her over his glasses.

"What's wrong?" If her tone wasn't alarming enough, using his first name like that at work was.

"It's Catherine."

He stood quickly.

"There's been a car crash. And they took Lindsey."

Grissom made his way around his desk to stand in front of her. "What do you mean they took Lindsey? To the hospital?"

"No, no." Sara worked to compose herself. "Something happened last night." She then relayed the days event to him, how she met Catherine at the motel, about the DIY rape kit. "I think someone is after her. This wasn't an accident." She paused briefly. "I should have told you about the rape earlier. I just didn't want to betray her trust."

Grissom put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "It's okay. Where is she now?"

"She's making her way back to the lab. Warrick has her."

* * *

"I should have told you but I didn't want an investigation. I did my own rape kit. It came back negative."

"Thank god. These events have to be connected. We'll check your old cases for possible suspects."

"I appreciate that."

"You've got to stay at arms length, Catherine." She nodded.

* * *

Grissom carefully cut the tape off of Lindsey's face and hands. She was safe. He made his way outside.

"Sidle."

"We found her. She's okay. She's okay."

She could hear this exasperation in his voice. relief.

* * *

She knocked on the door frame of his office to seem him sitting behind his desk hunched over the miniature once again.

"I hear we're out of suspects."

"That's not true. It could be anyone in town. Or anyone out of town for that matter. There are a lot of suspects."

She smiled softly, "What do you want us to do?"

"I don't know." He sighed and but on his magnification glasses, "I'll deal with it."

She knew that meant he wasn't coming home tonight. The realization made her sad, but she was understanding.

Sara went home that night, to their home. The home they now shared for four months. She walked into his office to find a good book to curl up with. Volumes upon volumes of all the classics lined the walls but she wasn't much in the mood for that. She opened his desk draw to find a bookmark to use once she picked a book from his collection.

She rummaged through until she came across something familiar. Something she hadn't seen in seven years. There, laying under papers and pens and random office supplies was a small warn out photo. She picked it up slowly and smiled. It was her and Grissom standing side by side in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. She flipped it over to find her chicken scratch handwriting on the other side with her old phone number and email address.

A single tear rolled from her eye. _They really had come such a long way to get here._

She closed up the drawer and made her way to the kitchen. Finding a magnet, she pined the photo to the refrigerator and smiled widely.


	20. Chapter 20

**October 2006**

Grissom sat in his home office organizing some books and rearranging some files. He heard Sara come in the front door. Her light footsteps edged her nearer to his study.

"Hey."

He looked up at her and smiled, "Welcome home."

"I feel like I haven't seen you all day. You have fun playing tour guide to the college students?"

Grissom had spent much of that shift taking around local college students on a tour of the lab, PD, and autopsy.

"I did, actually. It's was nice to have students again."

"We all still have a lot to learn from you." She offered but he shook his head,

"Our team is a well oiled machine."

"It's been a while since you spoke at a lecture hasn't it?" He simply nodded in return.

"Maybe you should look into that. There will always be students out there, you just need to find them." She smiled softly and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

* * *

"Sidle."

"Sara, I need you to go to Desert Palm and process the girl from Warrick and Nick's robbery case. Looks like it may be linked to my DB in the casino parking lot."

"Sure thing. I'll head there now."

"Thank you, dear."

* * *

Later that night Sara strapped on a pair of athletic shoes and dipped them in dirt. She then proceeded to kick a dummy on the ground to recreate the shoe impressions of the attacks that had happened that night.

She kicked hard working up a sweat.

"Whoa! Pick on someone your own size!" She turned to see Grissom standing there smiling.

"You volunteering?" She pursed her lips, her voice thickly lined with sexual innuendo.

He arched his left brow, "No."

"Have you seen Greg? I wanted to congratulate him on his court appearance."

"Just sent him out to investigate that robbery."

She nodded and toweled off her neck.

"Looks like these guys don't take a break. Jessica, the girl, she's lucky to be alive."

"And that dummy is lucky to not be. Remind me to never get on your bad side." He smirked at her knowingly.

* * *

Grissom walked into the layout room where Sara had been held up all night.

"Is your phone off?" He approached her tentatively.

"Oh, I must of left it on silent from when I was processing the girl at the hospital." Her voice trailed off, taking in his appearance she knew something was up. His fingers touched together as he took small steps closer toward her.

"It's Greg... There's been—" Accident wasn't the right word here, "He just became the third victim of this night's crime spree."

Sara's heart stopped, she could feel the tears stinging in her eyes as they surfaced. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"He's still at the scene, officers just got there... I don't know much else."

Sara pushed to her feet and ran past Grissom. Within seconds she was in her car and speeding to the scene. She haphazardly parked and ran out of the car toward the yellow crime tape.

She found Sophia, "Why isn't there a medic on Greg?"

"He's been stabilized. Sara—he's going to be okay."

She knelt down next to him. His face a shade of swollen purple, eyes clamped shut. Blood caked around his hairline. She touched his head gently.

"Sara..." His voice was small and weak.

"I didn't think you could see me."

"I can't." He managed through ragged breathing, "I know that Sidle sent."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." She attempted a joke, but seeing him there like this was too hard to bare. She looked up to fight back tears.

"I scratched one of them. And you should check my vest. I think the same guy, sp-spit on me. One of the cars crashed into the Denali. I guarantee there's transfer."

She continued to stroke his hair softly. "You should process the scene."

"I came here for you, Greg."

Eventually the paramedics came back for Greg and loaded him into the ambulance. Sara promised him that she would come by soon to see him.

She dialed Grissom's number as she drove back to the lab.

"Grissom."

"Hey." Her voice was a bit shaky. She could hear him shuffling around and close what sounded like his office door.

"How is he?"

"He's going to be fine. He took a really bad beating though." She chocked a bit on her next words, "he's in a lot of pain."

"Where are you?"

"I'm pulling into the lab's lot now."

"I'll meet you out there."

She pulled into her spot and saw as Grissom approached. She got out of the car and he pulled her into a tight embrace. His hand on the back of her head, gently brushing her hair with his palm.

He knew how much she loved Greg and how much this was tearing her apart.

"I think it would mean a lot to him if you went to the hospital." Sara finally spoke. She could feel him nod against her.

"I'm going to head there now."

"I'll ride with you."

* * *

That night Sara and Grissom laid in bed feeling relief that Greg was going to be okay. He gently stroked her back as she sat up reading a book.

Ever since moving in together, the two had come into the new habit of leaving work on time and getting into bed at a reasonable hour. Both had a reputation, separately, of working too much and never going home. It was a nice change of pace.

Grissom had lost a lot of weight too. He was looking fit and younger and it was all thanks to Sara's presence in his life. She ate healthy, so he ate healthy. She'd go for runs before shift, so he would join her every once in a while. He was sleeping more and suffered from fewer migraines. He felt like a new man. He was happy.

* * *

Sara stood over the body in autopsy. Taking photos and collecting trace evidence from the victim who had been strung up on a cross in a church.

She heard the morgue room door open and did even lift her head.

"Were there any shrubs at the crime scene?" She asked, knowing it had been Grissom who entered the room.

"Two bushes at the entrance of the church. A row of four on the wall of the community center. The bushes adjacent to the statue of St. Jude." He continued.

She slowly stood up and turned to him, "Did you anticipate that question in order to impress me with your powers of observation?" She smiled widely, amused.

"Memory's a gift." He shrugged.

"Hmm..." She turned back to the body, "From whom?" The two had never talked about religion before, she realized, and was curious as to his beliefs.

He arched a brow, "Who do you think?"

"Well... I wouldn't necessarily call myself an atheist, but I am definitely not sold on the notion of a higher power." She spoke while still examining the victim's feet. "However," She continued, "I used to love the stories of the saints."

Grissom stopped listening, his eyes fixated on some post-mortem bruising patter he spotted around the victim's neck. He lifted his glasses to get a better look.

"This job certainly challenges your faith."

"Yes it does. But I have science."

"I believe we need a little of both."

"Sometimes, I think we made up God just to have someone to blame for our mistakes." She revealed, and looked back to him to see if any facial cues could let her know what he was thinking.

Grissom stood straight and quickly ran out the door.

"It's just a theory!" She called after him, but he was gone and she was left there feeling a bit confused.

Grissom returned about half an hour later to find Sara was still photographing and processing the body.

"Something I said?"

"No, Dear."

"I didn't offend you, did I?" She stood up straight to look at him, "Did I say something offensive to you as a Catholic?"

"I'm not really a Catholic anymore, you know. I suppose I practice a kind of secular Catholicism that involves ritualizing certain aspects of everyday life and viewing them with a spiritual intensity that they might not otherwise poses." He shrugged and added, "But I don't want to put too fine a point on it."

She listened and nodded. Smiling at his musings. Her attention was then drawn to the necklace he pulled from a box.

"And the... Rosary beads are a part of that?" She was trying hard to show understanding of his beliefs.

"This belonged to my mother." He then held the beads to the victim's neck to show Sara why he had left the room to begin with.

"Take a look at this pattern."

She leaned in close to him, nearly resting her chin on his shoulder. She then pulled back to grab the camera and snap a photo.

He loved to work with her like this. When no one was around, when he didn't have to worry about what he said to her or how he said it. When she could get get so close to him that her lavender sent could tingle his nose.

 _He loved her._ He realized in that moment. _He really, truly loved her._


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: If you can't tell, season 6 and 7 are my favorites so I'm diving in a bit deeper into them. When I started this I never expected to reach 20+ chapters but here we are. I do plan to take this all the way through the series finale and perhaps a chapter or two of epilogue. Hope you're all still enjoying! Reviews are always appreciated!

* * *

 **November 2006**

Sara and Greg had been spending more time than usual outside of work since the incident. Something she had told Grissom, that the two had done more frequently before she and Grissom had become involved.

"Greg may know." She confessed to him one night in bed after she had been out with Greg for a few hours after work.

"What do you mean, _may_."

 _Sara and Greg had been sharing a quick breakfast after shift._

 _"Want to watch a movie?" Sara had suggested. Monthly movie nights between the two had become non-existent since she and Grissom got together and Sara truly missed her friends company outside of work._

 _"What so you can talk through the whole thing?" He jabbed playfully, "Yeah lets do it. Want to just go to your apartment. It's closer."_

 _"Sure!" She said automatically without thinking. But realization settled in and she had to think quickly, "Actually, let's go to your apartment." he looked at her quizzically, "My place is a mess right now."_

 _"Oh, I don't care about that. Here, you go home and 'clean up'" he smiled, "I grab some popcorn and beer and meet you there._

 _She was in a corner and didn't know what else to do, what else to say to preserve the intimate secret she and Grissom shared. He could sense something was up,_

 _"Sara?" Greg paused seeming to think about why she wouldn't want him in her home. He knew she didn't have feelings for him, knew she didn't really care about whether or not he saw her apartment as a mess._

 _"You know, Sara, you've been working less overtime. You're leaving shift when shift actually ends. You're taking your days off..."_

 _She diverted her eyes not knowing what to do. And as if by some divine miracle from a higher power she didn't really believe in, her phone rang. The voice on the other line dispatched her to a scene off the strip and she was able to make an easy exit._

 _"_ That doesn't mean he knows."

She shrugged, "Just means we need to be a little more careful. If he doesn't know yet, he's on the path to get there." He agreed and gently kissed her forehead.

"You're okay with this still right?"

"With what?" She asked innocently.

"With—um." He paused. Finding the right words to speak to her was never easy for him and he couldn't fully understand why. "With keeping this a secret."

She smirked and inched closer to him, pushing her body flesh against his. Her hand made its way to his check as she placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

He smiled softly.

* * *

Grissom and Sara walked around the older woman's house. She had seemingly been thrown through a window face first. Grissom looked at her from the outside while Sara photographed inside.

Their working relationship seemed to be stronger than ever. Working through scenes quickly and efficiently with their own developed short hands. He could see today, though, that she was just slightly distracted. Something he chalked up to her being worried about Greg's public inquest today. The inquest was to be held to determine if he acted justly in the death of Mr. James.

Sara worked the case with Catherine. After hours of working it they continued to eliminate suspect after suspect. That is until the nephew came into the lab holding a large cardboard box. Sara approached him carefully and peered over the top. Her face went white.

The first thing she saw was a perfectly rendered half inch model of the murder. The second thing she saw was an empty bed, realizing quickly that Grissom would be once again infatuated with the case.

* * *

It had been a week since the second miniature was delivered to the office. And like Sara expected, Grissom was infatuated. He was working late again, skipping meals and not sleeping soundly. She wasn't quite sure what to do for him other than give him his space.

Grissom sat behind his office desk and opened a letter from Williams College:

 _Dear Dr. Grissom,_

 _As an accomplished entomologist in the field of forensic science, we would be honored for you to accept a visiting professorship to teach a graduate seminar on the interdisciplinary subject of the Walden Pond._

He continued to read the letter, which ended by stating:

 _Consider taking a sabbatical to join us._

Just then Catherine entered his office to update him on the case of two twins, murdered in the same night at completely different scenes. He quickly folded up the letter and slipped it into the top drawer of the desk.

The rest of shift Grissom thought about that letter. He could tell he was burning out, Sara had pointed that out to him on a few occasions. The miniature cases had been keeping him up at night. He also recalled her saying just a few months ago that he should look into teaching. He hadn't, of course, as work consumed all of his time like it usually did. But here an opportunity seemed to fall into his lap. But could he do it to the team? To leave them short handed for five weeks?

He battled with those questions all night. Finally, once the cases were wrapped he retreated to his office. There, he sat down in a comfortable chair and pulled Thoreau's Walden from the shelf. The subconscious act linking to the seminar's topic of Walden Ponds was not lost on him.

He glanced up as he saw Sara turn the corner of the hallway and now appear in his doorway.

"I heard the guys solved a double murder."

"Mhmm" he nodded somewhat mindlessly.

"I spent the day sitting on a bench outside the court room. They never got to me."

"That sucks." He returned his attention back to the book.

She cocked her head to the side to see what he was reading, "Feeling transcendental?" she pursed her lips.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looked up at her once more.

"Thoreau? I haven't read him since college." Her smile lit her face in a soft glow.

"Me neither. It holds up. I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself then be crowded on a velvet cushion."

Her smile continued as her eyes glanced downward to see the abandoned crossword puzzle.

"Oh look, you've missed one. 63 down." She only thought for a brief second. "Misanthrope." She placed the puzzle back down as he looked at her almost bewildered. "I wont wait up." She smirked and made her way to exit his office.

She got him, he realized. She understood more of him then he really understood himself. He watched as she exited the office and then disappeared down the hallway in awe. After all this time, she still amazed him. Even in his darkest hours she shown a light.


	22. Chapter 22

**December 2006**

"You look like a kid who just found the prize at the bottom of a cracker jack box."

Sara entered the layout room to see Grissom pulling an object out of the latest miniature.

"Definitely some kind of doll."

She leaned in close to him to take a look, "Sure is."

"Three different views of the same dead doll." They turned to look at the layout room wall, covered in photos from the other miniatures. Sara stared at the images of the dolls. He watched her for a moment.

"I haven't seen you in a while."

She turned back to look at him and shrugged. "Some cases get the best of us." She smiled softly, showing her understanding and turned back to look at the wall.

"Maybe this is more than a signature. Maybe there's something that these victims have in common."

Sara rattled off age, race, sex, social stature not seeing any obvious connection.

They turned back to the layout table and discussed the phone records as sara looked over some of the images. She then opened the case file.

"Mannleigh Chickens?"

"What about it?"

She took the case file and started to walk out the door, "I'll let you know." She turned back about to see his slightly bewildered face, "See how it feels?" She fought back a smile and walked off. Grissom was left alone in the layout room shaking his head.

* * *

Sara could then be found in the AV room watching a documentary staring Izzy Delancey. She found what she was looking for.

She took out her phone and texted Grissom, "Come to AV room 3." Just a few short minutes later Grissom appeared in the doorway.

"Ready to share?" He asked amused as he sat down in a stool next to her. She didn't say a word, just hit play. Filling the screen was Izzy Delancey sitting in front of a chicken coop, discussing how he changed his ways and no longer harmed animals. He also sited Mannleigh Chickens as wrong doer in the world of animal cruelty.

"Where did you find this?"

"I—like animals, and after the Delancey murder I brushed up on my history. As it turns out, three years ago Izzy Delancey had a mid-life awakening and became an animal rights activist. He started and financed the PSA targeting Mannleigh Chickens as the epitome of everything that is wrong in the slaughtering industry.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Grissom and Sara turned there attention to the door to see someone from janitorial standing there, mop in hand. "I thought this room was vacant. I'll come back later."

"No, you're fine. We were just leaving." Grissom picked up the case file and stood. He lead sara out of the room with a gentle hand on the small of her back.

* * *

Catherine sat across from Grissom at his desk laughing,

"Im sorry," She made out between laughs, "It's funny but it's horrible. It's really funny... but it's horrible."

She composed herself enough to stifle her laughs and then took in his grim appearance.

"Are you okay?"

He shrugged, "A guy kills two people before breakfast that he had no intention of killing when he woke up that morning. By all accounts he's lead a meager life—An unnoticed life. And then all the sudden, in a flash, its over. And now for him, the real suffering begins."

"You're tired." Cather spoke bluntly. She realized in that moment that she hadn't seen her colleague this grim in nearly two years.

"Yeah." His face was sad.

Just then Sara entered the room speedily, "Guess what!?"

"Mankind has reached a new evolutionary plateau and starting tomorrow no one will rape, murder or maim again."

"Um—no..." She looked between him and Catherine.

"Too bad."

Sara tried not to stare at him but his appearance and body language was screaming loud. He was tired, sad. _Had he been confining in Catherine before she entered the room?_ She wondered. _Had she interrupted something?_

 _"_ But I did catch a break on that disposable cell phone number." She pursed her lips together in a smile, hoping a lead in the miniature cases would bring him some peace.

"Raymundo Suarez called it as well?" He said, as if he readily knew the answer. To his surprise, he was wrong:

"No, he didn't" She smiled, "But according to the carrier, additional minutes were just purchased with a credit card belonging to Ernie Dell. Brass is already on it. There picking up up." She smiled again, "We've got the miniature killer." Her voice was excited but as she looked at Grissom while she spoke, she realized he wasn't so convinced. That, or the miniature cases weren't what was keeping him up and this would not bring the relief she had thought it would.

Catherine watched the way Sara was looking at Grissom, with sympathetic eyes. She sighed internally feeling bad for her female colleague who clearly never got over her feelings for their supervisor. Catherine had known since Sara's first year in Vegas that she viewed Grissom as more than just a supervisor. But from where Catherine sat, it was clear to her that the feelings were one-sided. She had known Grissom for so many years at this point, and knew that he could never care for another person the way he cared for his job. He would never let anyone in.

She looked back at Grissom taking in his appearance once again, _Maybe he should. Maybe it's time he opens his heart._

* * *

Grissom walked in the front door to find Sara sitting on the couch reading a book. Shift had ended five hours ago but he just couldn't bring himself to go home. She looked up from her seated position.

"Hey." She spoke softly and watched as he pealed off his coat and hung it up.

"You didn't have to wait up." His speech was monotone, sad.

She closed her book and laid it on coffee table. "I knew you had a rough night." She paused, "The video.. of Dell... Brass told me."

He nodded recalling having seen a man commit suicide on a special broadcast feed meant just for him.

"You okay?"

"I don't know." He answered honestly. He made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

"Maybe you should take some time off. You've got plenty of vacation time saved up. See your mother?"

"Oh." he looked back at her. His slumped shoulders began to tense up. "I—um. I..." She stood and walked toward the kitchen to hear him better. He continued, "I am, taking some time off."

"Really?" The surprise in her voice was evident. While she suggested he take time off, he never really expected she'd do it.

"Yes. Well, it's not so much as time of as a sabbatical."

Her brows furrowed. He knew immediately that he had done something wrong that he should have told her sooner, perhaps even asked her her thoughts on the matter.

"A sabbatical?" She questioned, "For how long?"

"Five weeks. I'm teaching a graduate seminar in Massachusetts."

"Oh." And there it was, confirmation that he had hurt her. But he was so tired, so burned out, that he really couldn't have thought a better way to tell her. His mind was too preoccupied.

"When are you leaving?" She finally asked.

"Next week."

"And you were planning to tell me..." She was trying hard to mask the hurt but it wasn't working. _They shared a home together. Did he expect to just not return one day next week and let her figure out why on her own?_

"I hadn't thought about it..." His voice trailed off.

"And the team?"

"I haven't told anyone yet. Except Ecklie to approve the leave."

She nodded knowingly. "Okay." She returned to the couch, opened her book and began to read once more.

* * *

 **January 2007**

Grissom tentatively unwrapped a gift Hodges just handed to him. Inside was a sweatshirt with the words "Williams College" sprawled across it.

"How did you know about this?"

"I saw the approved sabbatical form on Ecklie's desk." He admitted. "Don't worry, I didn't say anything to anyone else. Did you think you were going to teach at my alma mater in the dead of winter without warm clothes?"

Grissom hadn't even realized Hodges had gone to school there.

"I thought you went to college in San Diego?"

"Graduate school" Hodges corrected.

"You got a minute?" Catherine appeared in his doorway.

"He's busy." Hodges bud in and received dirty looks from both Catherine Grissom. Taking the hint, he excused himself.

Catherine caught Grissom up on the case at hand.

"Why are we talking about this? Finch was set free."

"I don't buy it. I need to go to Larkston."

"You can't."

She rolled her eyes, "Look I want a second shot at this guy. I want to get him before he kills again."

"I'm going on sabbatical. You're going to be the acting supervisor while I'm gone."

Catherine now wore a similar face to the one Sara wore when he told her. Disappointment, anger, hurt.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow night."

She shook her head, _typical_ "I'll be back before then." She turned back before exiting, "How long have you known about this?"

Grissom's dumbfounded look left her angrier as she stormed off. He sighed heavily as he slumped down further. He was feeling so low and couldn't seem to resurface.

* * *

Nick and Catherine sat in the car driving out of Las Vegas.

"Why didn't he tell the rest of the team?"

"He's leaving me in charge and didn't even tell me until today. Heck, if I hadn't told him I was leaving town he may have never told me."

Nick though a moment, "You know, sabbaticals are usually a euphemism for sienara. I don't think Grissom's coming back."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't know. He shaved his beard, he's lost a little weight, he's been leaving when shift is over. I think he actually took off last week."

"Maybe he's got himself a girlfriend."

"That's what I'm saying."

"You know I thought that you were going to leave a few months ago."

"Why 'cause I shaved my beard?"

"You're really not worried that he's not coming back?" Nick looked back at Catherine noting her calm disposition.

"Nah, he'll be back. His life is this lab. But I do think he's got a girlfriend. You're right he has lost a lot of weight. He looks younger and healthier..." Her voice trailed off. "Maybe Lady Heather's back."

Nick laughed whole heartedly, "Yeah.. right. Grissom and Lady Heather."

Catherine lifted an eyebrow, "Hey, you never know."

* * *

Sara walked back to her locker and got ready to go home for the night. She sighed heavily, feeling a weight on her chest that she couldn't quite describe. Last night she watched as Grissom quickly packed a bag.

 _"Massachusetts winters can be brutal." She warned him as he through a few t-shirts in the bag._

 _"Oh. You're right." He sighed, "My head is all over the place" He took the t-shirts out and replaced them with more appropriate attire._

 _"I can see that." She smirked but he wouldn't know it. He couldn't make eye contact with her._

They hadn't spoken much since then.

"Hey."

She lifted her head to see Grissom in the doorway. "My cab's here."

"So you're going?" She tried her best at a smile but the sadness shown through.

"Yeah."

"I'll see you when you get back." She turned her attention back to her locker and finished hanging up her coat. But he was still in the doorway and she could feel his eyes on her. He couldn't walk away, he couldn't stop looking at her. His heart felt heavy.

He looked both ways down the hallway to make sure they were alone. He stepped in and hesitantly placed his finger tips together, taking a deep breath in. He caught her eye once more and she turned to him.

"I'll miss you." His words were barely a whisper but she could hear them. His face turned sad and confused before he scurried off, leaving her there alone. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling cold.

Grissom got into the cab and made his way for the airport. He had never had to worry about anyone missing him when he was gone, nor did he ever have to worry about missing anyone himself. She had burrowed her way into his heart, and he realized that she was there to stay. Regardless of what their future held, he knew that she would always hold his heart in her hands. He took in a deep breath, just to prove to himself he could still breath. Her image in his head, her sad features as they parted.

He wanted desperately to hold her. But he couldn't. He already missed her and he was only gone for 20 minutes.


	23. Chapter 23

**January 2007**

Grissom had been in Massachusetts for nearly a week at this point. He arrived to find some modest living accommodations set up for him in addition to his own office space in the science wing's annex. He laid in bed that night and stared at the ceiling like he had for all the nights he'd spent there so far. He wasn't sleeping well. The taxation of the job still weighed heavily on him for one. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but there was another reason he wasn't sleeping. The lack of weight on the other side of the felt was eerie. It made him uncomfortable.

Each morning he rolled over and put his arm out to touch her. And each morning it hit the sheets beside him with a lonely thud. He missed her deeply, like he knew he would.

* * *

Sara woke up to again find an empty bed beside her. It had only been a week since he'd left but she still couldn't get used to sleeping alone. She kicked herself mentally. _They had only been sharing a bed for a year had a half and living together for less than a year. She spent her whole life sleeping alone, why couldn't she shake this feeling?_ She shook her head trying to rid herself of the feeling, but she couldn't.

She got up and dressed for the day.

* * *

"Hello, class." Grissom addressed the lecture hall filled with graduate students. He turned the projector on and displayed a timeline of Walden Pond Flies. He taught the lecture every Tuesday and Thursday for three hours. In between, he held two hours of office hours. He found himself taking long walks in the cold around campus when he wasn't doing research or holding class. It was doing wonders for clearing his head.

Each day he would take a long walk around the pond, through the perimeter of campus and around the student center.

On one of these walks he spotted something against a building. A small cocoon wrapped around a bush's bare branch. He leaned in close to realize that this cocoon was still alive, having made its nest near the heat of the building's exterior vents. A smile crept onto his face as his heart began to flutter.

He hurried back to his office to grab a garden cutter, box and some soft paper, then quickly returned to the building's side.

Gently, he cut the branch free from the bush and gently placed the cocoon into the box. He brushed his thumb over it's shell carefully. He breathed in deeply, as if it were the first breath he'd been able to take in a long time.

* * *

"Sara, You feeling okay?"

She looked up to see Catherine standing there in the locker room's doorway. Sara had been seated on the bench, staring blankly at her shoes which she now realized she'd been doing for a while.

"Hm?" She snapped her head up quickly, "Oh, yeah-yeah. I'm fine." She paused, "Why?" She had a slightly defensive undertone that she was trying hard to mask. It wasn't working.

"You've been sitting there still for a while." Catherine moved into the room, "Something on your mind?"

Sara shrugged, "Long shift."

Catherine nodded knowingly, "You're at the end of a tripple, aren't you?"

"I suppose so."

"You know— I haven't seen you work this much overtime in years."

She shrugged again, "I'm always here when the lab needs me."

"You are." Catherine confirmed, "But... I guess I'm just realizing that you've done a much better job of actually going home after shift lately." She paused a moment before adding, "Don't let that slip away.. work-life balance is important."

Sara finally stood and grabbed her jacket from the locker. "Have a good night." Sara walked passed Catherine and down the hall. Her posture slightly slumped, a fact night lost on Catherine.

Sara walked into their home that night and sat on the couch finishing up a book she started the night Grissom left. She flipped to the last page and took a sip of wine as she read the last few words.

She stood and walked to the study where she returned the book to its rightful place on the bookshelf. She looked around to find another book to preoccupy her time with but nothing seemed to peek her interest. She then took a seat at his desk and looked around. She liked to look at his things. It made her feel a little closer to him. His entomology textbooks, pined up butterflies, notes scrawled across post-it notes.

* * *

Grissom sat behind his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He suddenly felt very inspired, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He began to write:

 _Sara,_

 _Our parting was awkward. I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you. Even though we are far apart, I can see you as clearly as if you were here with me... I said I'll miss you, and I do._

He paused a minute to think. Suddenly not being able to find the right words for her again. He quickly turned to grab his shakespeare poetry book and flipped to a familiar page. He began to write again.

He finished copying over the sonnet and looked down at the paper, reading it once more. He smiled. He placed it in an envelope and then in the box with the cocoon.

Just as he was getting ready to seal up the box, a gut feeling told him to take the letter out. He fought the feeling for a moment but eventually caved. He became nervous suddenly that perhaps the letter wouldn't appropriately express his true feelings. _Perhaps it left too much to interpret._ He taped up the box and wrote the crime lab's address on it.

The letter was left on his desk.

* * *

Sara walked into the lab to clock in for shift. Two weeks. She'd thought to herself. He had been gone for two weeks.

"Sara." Judy from reception caught Sara's attention. "You have a package."

"I do?" Sara furrowed her brows as Judy handed her the small cardboard box. "Oh.." She looked down to see Grissom's handwriting scrawled across the top. "Thank you."

Sara made her way to the locker room and sat down on the bench. She tapped her fingers on the package for a moment. _Should she wait to open it until later? Keep something to look forward to?_ Then she thought better of it and began to open the box, worried that if she'd wait the expectation of its contents would grow.

A quick flick of the wrist with a pocket knife and the box was coming open. She lifted some brown tissue paper to see a small branch with a cocoon nested inside of it. Carefully, she picked it up and brought it to eye level to examine its features. A small smile made its way to her lips and her heart began to flutter.

She lifted the rest of the tissue paper from the box to find a card or note accompanying it. Her once fluttering heart then sank with realization that none was included. She shook her head, _typical Grissom._

She looked back at the small cocoon. She remembered something she'd read in one of Grissom's textbooks. A cool, dark place would be best cocoon. She thought a moment before realizing exactly where she should keep it.

Sara looked both ways before opening the door to Grissom's office. She hadn't been in there since he left. She looked around, noting the massive pile of mail and packages that lined his desk. She sighed, _even when he's back he won't be around,_ she realized. Knowing fully that the backlog would consume his time.

She looked through his shelves and found an empty fish tank to keep the coccon and branch in. So that's what she did.

She took one last look at it before exiting his office.

"Oh, excuse me." A small voice spoke at her after bumping into her. A girl from Janitorial.

"I'm sorry." Sara bent down to pick up the mop the young her had dropped.

"I—I—I was just going to clean Dr. Grissom's office."

Sara nodded and walked off.

* * *

Every night Sara would come into shift and b-line for Grissom's office to check up on the cocoon. It's status unchanging.


	24. Chapter 24

Grissom stepped off the plane and made his way straight to the taxi line.

"296 Pine Tree Road." Grissom relayed his address to the cabbie. He sat in the backseat and looked out the window. A smile grew on his face at the thought of seeing Sara again. He looked down at his watch and realized the time, _she was just in the middle of shift, she wouldn't be home._

"Excuse me, sir? Could you please reroute to the Las Vegas Crime Lab." The cabbie agreed and turned the car around, headed toward the LV CL.

* * *

Grissom walked through the lab doors for the first time in four weeks.

"Welcome back Dr. Grissom!" Judy gushed from her receptionists desk.

"Great to be back." He smiled.

Grissom walked through the halls saying cordial "hello"s and "how are you"s, looking, hoping, to run into Sara.

"Grissom!"

He turned to see Greg standing there.

"Hello, Greg."

They exchanged a quick and simple conversation. They went to part ways before Grissom added,

"Oh hey, by the way, have you seen Sara?"

"Yeah, she's out at a scene. Probably wont be back for a few hours."

 _A few hours._ Grissom decided to keep himself busy by meeting Warrick at a scene to help him process. But that only lasted two hours and Sara still wasn't back at the lab by the time he was.

He now sat behind his desk and began to rummage through the paperwork. Triaging the important from the less important. But his mind was preoccupied.

A few minutes later he looked up to see her walking right past his office down the hallway. He quickly pushed to his feed and hurried out of his office.

"Sara!" He called just as she passed, taking off his reading glasses to get a better look of her.

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of his voice. Turning on her heels she saw him standing there. Her heart fluttered and her hands felt numb suddenly.

There he was. His beard was grown out longer than he'd ever let if before, his eyes were bright and there was a certain spring in his step that she hadn't seen in a while.

"Hey, you're back." She could barely speak she was so surprised. She hadn't expected him back for a few more days.

He drew closer to her, not able to stop himself. Suddenly she realized the state she was in and walked backwards.

"I-I've been out at..."

"A garbage dump?" He took in her appearance but he didn't care. He kept walking toward her, drawn to her.

"Yeah...It's so obvious isn't it?" She smiled through her embarrassment. This is not how she wanted to look or smell when she saw him again. "Nice um... You look good."

He kept walking toward her, and she kept walking backwards.

"Did you, uh, put the cocoon in my office?" He had noticed it there on his shelf earlier.

"Cool, dry, not a lot of light. It seemed like the right place for it." He was getting closer despite her attempts to distance them.

"I think you're going to be surprised when it hatches." His boyish grin made his whole face glow as his blue eyes gazed deeply into hers.

"I have no doubt." She smiled through pursed lips, "I'm gonna, go clean up now." Finally she created distance between them. She could only imagine what she looked like in that moment after sorting through trash for the last four hours.

She walked off as she heard him call to her, "I'll see you later?" Meant as a statement for passerbys, but she knew better. He wanted to make sure, he needed to know that he would see her again sooner rather than later.

She turned back to look at him and smiled knowingly, "Yeah." She spoke simply, "You will." She held his gaze just a moment longer before heading off to the showers.

* * *

She received a text about 30 minutes later from him, " _I took a cab here from the airport."_ Since he was texting her work phone she knew that his language was purposefully cryptic. She smiled knowing that he meant he needed a ride home.

She appeared in his doorway later that night, "Hi." Her small voice filled his senses and he looked up to see her standing there. She'd showered and changed since their last interaction.

He stood and walked around his desk, "Hi." He took in her appearance. His heart skipped a beat. "Close the door." He said softly with a gesture of his head. She did as she was asked then walked past him to see the cocoon on the shelf.

"There's a little tear in it now. That was there at the start of shift."

Grissom move toward her and leaned in behind her, looking at the cocoon. "It's getting ready to come out." His breath kissed her ear. She turned her face to the right, coming within mere centimeters of his own. "Within the next day or two I'd say." His words were even quieter now.

She leaned in and kissed him softly at first. They had never kissed within the confines of their shared workplace. They knew better than that, usually. But she couldn't help herself and he was relieved that she couldn't because he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to hold himself back.

His hand automatically rose to the side of her face. Touching her soft skin.

She broke the kiss, "You came back early."

He nodded, "I could have stayed a few more days but..." His voice trailed off.

"You missed the lab?"

"I missed you."

Her breath caught her in throat. She moved to hug him tightly, nuzzling her head in the nook of his shoulder. "I missed you too." She whispered into his ear. "Let's go home." She could feel him nod against her.

* * *

Sara keyed the door open and let him in, then closed the door behind them.

He stepped inside and took a look around. Three books on the coffee table, two closed, one flipped upside-down, opened.

"How many books did you read while I was gone?" He turned to her with a knowing smile.

She shrugged, "Six, seven maybe?"

He laughed knowingly. She reached up to touch his beard. Running her fingers through the thick, corse hairs. In one swift movement he closed the gap between them and hit his lips to hers hard, desperately.

He could feel her moan against him. Her hands roaming. He guided her to the bedroom. Clothing was quickly discarded along the way until they were standing there beside the bed. He stepped back to look at her as she stood there in just a bra and underwear.

Her breath became shallow and fast. She needed him.

"Gil" She breathed pleadingly.

He took her lips in his once more and kissed her deeply. His hands gently grazed over her bare sides, up her back, over hear shoulders and down to her chest. She pushed him onto the bed and straddled him.

He could barely process how he was feeling in that moment. Excited, happy, awed. His heart was beating faster and she could feel it below her hand that gently rest on his chest.

She stared deep into his eyes as she pushed him into her. Their lips met again and he could feel her moan against him. His mind dipped into a blissful haze. He was home.

* * *

 **February 2007**

Grissom opened the package on his desk. Stunned by its contents he rushed out into the hallway.

"Catherine! Layout room. now." He hurried there with the miniature he was holding.

Ernie Dell was not there guy and the miniature killer was still out there. The addressed package to Grissom made it personal.

* * *

Late that night, after both murders played out and the evidence they had was followed, Grissom and Sara sat in the AV lab looking through Ernie Dell's home videos.

"We reran the video footage several times to get a head count. Assuming that they're all Dell foster kids, there's 13 of them."

"At this birthday party."

"Yeah. Lionel only remembered first names. Getting the DHS records is going to be tough. Judges hate giving them out unless we can demonstrate pressing need... and even then they're spotty. A lot of foster kids change their names when they age out."

"Ernie Dell confessed and killed himself to protect someone he loved. And that someone has murdered five people." He paused a moment and turned to face her. Her eyes glued to the screen. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

He spoke hesitantly, not sure whether he was treading in unwanted territory, "Change your name?"

She looked back at him and shook her head, "No." She paused a moment before continuing, "I thought about it." She confessed, "But my past is a part of who I am I guess, whether I like that or not. Changing my name wasn't going to rewrite my childhood."

He nodded and placed a gentle hand on her back. He was finding it hard to withhold affectionate touches from her at work since his return. She kept warning him each time, giving him a knowing look, but he couldn't help it.

Just the other night they worked a case together at the scene of a recked red Ford Mustang. _He walked to her and took the department camera from her. His hand leaving feathery touches along her arm as he slipped the camera's strap from her shoulder. She leaned into his touch and turned to him. She looked at him warningly._

The change in him since his return was not lost on Sara. His boyish grin resurfaced. He was more attentive and communicative. More affectionate. She loved it.

* * *

Her head laid against his bare chest, rising and falling with his breaths. His fingers gently stroked her soft hair as he kissed the top of her head. Her presence warmed him to his core. They laid there together. Spent and content.

"I'd like to shave before shift."

She nodded against him, "Okay."

"Will you?"

They stood in the bathroom. His face lathered with shaving cream. She took out the straight razor.

"Do you trust me?" She turned to him, wielding the razor in her right hand.

He looked deep into her eyes, "intimately." She smiled softly at him and began to shave away the hair from his cheeks. He continued to stare at her as she moved methodically shaving inch by inch. Her beauty was breathtaking. And he knew in that moment, that he couldn't be happier.

* * *

"Sidle."

"Sara. Where are you."

"In layout. Is everything okay?"

"Come to my office. hurry."

Sara dropped what she was doing and walked briskly down the hall. She didn't even bother to knock as she opened his office door.

"Close the door behind you." She furrowed her brow as she looked at Grissom's back. He was facing the bookshelves behind his desk. She did as she was told and walked to him.

"Come here." His voice was soft as he moved to the side to let her see. "It's the cocoon." Sara leaned in close to see as the green and blue fluttering broke through the silk wrap.

His face brushed against her soft lavender scented hair. "Wow." She breathed watching the creature come to life.

"Beautiful." He was looking at her as he spoke. She nodded, not taking her eyes off the cocoon.

"Well worth the wait." She looked up at him and smiled. He wasn't the only one capable of speaking in double entendres.


	25. Chapter 25

**March 2007**

It was the third Saturday of the month. A day she'd been looking forward to since the third Saturday of February and January before that. Sara slid the razor up her long silky legs as she let the hot beads of shower water roll down her back. A small smile crept onto her face as she though about their plans for the night. A documentary, a bottle of wine, one of Grissom's world class home cooked meals and a night in to share just the two of them.

She tussled her wet hair with a towel and wrapped herself in one of her silk bath robes. She heard the door open and close. The familiar sound of him kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat.

Sara made her wait out to the living area to see him walking to the kitchen. A large paper grocery bag in either hand.

"Orecchiette with rapini and goat cheese." He held up a few ingratiates as he spoke.

"Sounds delicious." She made her way to him then and leaned over him to peer into the bags.

"Did you get more wine?"

"Of course." He smiled as he pulled a bottle of Malbec from the second bag. He looked down at her realizing then that she was in her bathrobe, hair wet. He leaned down to place gentle kiss on her lips.

The vibrating of his phone against the countertop interrupted him. She looked over at its display.

"It's the lab."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You should answer it."

He nodded. Delaying the answer wasn't going to stop them from calling. But he knew very well that the minute he picked up the phone, their date would end.

"Grissom."

"Hey Gil, It's Brass. We've got a multiple homicide on the west side of town."

"I'm off tonight, Brass."

"I know." He paused, "It's five victims, Gil. All show girls, roommates."

Grissom sighed audibly, "Text me the address, I'll be there in 20."

"Will do." Brass paused, "Did I interrupt any fun plans?"

"Fun plans?" Grissom furrowed his brows.

"It's the third Saturday of the month." Brass' words on the other line made Grissom's heat stop for a moment, he could feel his mouth go dry.

"I-I'll, uh, see you at the scene." Grissom quickly shut the phone.

"You need me to help process?"

"I'll let you know when I get there. For now, enjoy your night off."

"Won't be much to enjoy without you here." She spoke honestly. Her disappointment rang through but he knew she understood. "What was Brass saying at the end?"

Grissom shook his head, "Just reminding me that he knows about us."

"What?" Sara stopped in her tracks.

"Oh, um..." Grissom fumbled a bit, realizing he'd never told her that Brass knew about their relationship. Truth be told, he continued to lie to himself, convince himself he'd made up the various scenarios that lead Grissom to realize Brass knew—but he didn't. Those scenarios were real, and Grissom's reading of Brass' intentions correct.

He watched as her face screwed in confusion, and then suddenly softened. Realization wiped over her features.

"Oh..." She spoke before he had the chance to explain, "He does know."

She quickly recalled a few questionable things Brass had said to her over the past year or so. Exchanges she never really gave a second thought until now.

Sara, " _I had a boyfriend that handed me the wrong pair of underwear after a raid in college... he claimed it was his sister's." She laughed.  
_ _Brass, "Well at least your taste in men has evolved."_

 _Brass, "DB at a singles mixer. I'd invite you but I don't think you'd find anyone suitable there."_

 _Brass, "Is Grissom loosing sleep over the latest miniature? I Worry about him."  
_ _Sara, "How would I know."_

 _Brass, "Grissom finally got rid of that beard, hu?"  
Sara, "What? Oh, uh, I guess..."_

 _Brass, "Night off tomorrow. Any plans?"  
_ _Sara, "Just a quiet night in on the couch."_

"How did I not realize that before?"

Grissom shrugged, "I think he's known for a long time."

"How long?"

"A year... maybe longer."

Sara nodded knowingly, "Just keep playing along?"

"Probably our best bet for now."

* * *

Grissom arrived at the scene to find the seven girls bound and stabbed. He quickly realized the undertaking of the scene and called Sara in for help.

Just a half hour later Sara arrived on the scene. She pointed her flashlight around the home as walked through the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs, following bloody footprints—kit in hand. She heard the snaps of a camera and turned into the first bedroom, shining her light at Warrick.

"Hell of a way to spend your night off." Warrick looked up from his camera.

"How many bodies to you have in here?"

"Three. Grissom's down the hall. First door on your right. Just follow the blood."

She did jus that. The blood trails lead her to the bedroom Grissom currently occupied. She pointed her flashlight at him, "My date got canceled."

He looked up from his crouched position, "I'm sure he had a good excuse." He smiled somewhat sadly.

"Where do you want me?"

"Next room down the hall. There's another body there."

Sara walked into the next room. There she found another girl bound with her pants pulled down. She knelt by the bed to get a better look at the victim. Her hair was long and blond, large dark smudges surrounded her eyes where heavy makeup had been applied.

Suddenly a movement came from under the bed.

"Suspect under the bed!" She shouted as she pulled her gun.

Hearing the commotion Grissom jumped to his feet and ran toward her, "Sara!"

Sara leaned down to get a better look and quickly realized the person under the bed was not a suspect but another victim. The sixth roommate. "Victim down." She amended and she reached for the girl's hand.

She could hear the faint sound of Grissom radioing for help as she pulled the victim out from under the bed. Grissom watched from the doorway as Sara whispered calming, reassuring words to her, "Your okay. Help is on the way. Hang in there. It's going to be okay."

She held her hand tightly and put pressure on a wound. She struggled to make out what she was trying to say. And then, Sara watched as the light left the victim's eyes. "No." Sara's desperate plea escaped her lips. She then felt Grissom's hands on her shoulders, lifting her up and out of the way as paramedics rushed in.

He held her up and lead her away, down the stairs and out the front door. His arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. He turned to her, "Are you okay?" Her absent minded nod told him otherwise. He gently lifted his hand to her face and thumbed over her cheek.

"Gil." Her voice was shaky but stern as she warned him to stop.

"You have a cut." He said softly looking deep into her eyes, concerned.

"Sara." Grissom turned his head to see Brass approaching the two. He immediately dropped his hand from her cheek. "C'mon, Sara." Brass put his arm around her, "Let's get you cleaned up." He lead her to the nearby ambulance where a pair of department issued coveralls and an EMT blanket was waiting for her. Brass looked back and shot Grissom a warning look, similar to the one Sara had moments earlier.

Brass set her up in the ambulance and gave her some privacy to get changed. He took a few quick strides toward Grissom,

"I've never seen you move so quickly."

"What do you mean?"

"When you heard Sara pull her gun."

Grissom looked down at his feet.

"She'll be okay. The scratch is superficial." Brass placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Get back in there, I've got Sara."

* * *

At the end of shift that night, he walked the nearly deserted halls looking for Sara. Finally, he found her in the break room, watching the news report of the six showgirls' murders. He walked in and stood just behind her. She could feel his presence with her now, not even needing to turn around.

"I held his hand." Her voice was small and sad. She turned then to look at him before quickly looking back at the TV. His eyes squinted with concern and sympathy, "Just like I held hers." She managed through the falling tears, "I lost perspective."

Grissom brought his hand to her check and wiped away a tear. She leaned into his touch. They exchanged another look and she nodded, agreeing to his unspoken suggestion that they head home.

Gently, he placed a hand on her back and lead her out of the break room and down the hallway.

"Careful." He whispered as they carefully walked around the areas that a janitorial staff member was mopping.

She was silent the whole way home. Her silence maintained as they entered their home. Their discarded wine and other items from their 'night-in' laid strewed across the apartment.

"Gil?" She finally spoke. He quickly made his way to her.

"What is it?"

She raised her hand to his check, "I'd love to resume our date."

He smiled, "Of course, dear." He placed a loving kiss on her forehead and then her lips. Letting his linger there just a bit longer than usually.


	26. Chapter 26

They sat on the couch together. The documentary playing out through the speakers. Grissom sat forward, his legs resting on the coffee table in front of him. Sara's legs were stretched out across Grissom's lap, her head gently laid against the space between his shoulder and chest, a glass of red wine held in her hand. The sound of his heartbeat in his ear is all she ever really needed to relax. She felt him kiss the top of her head. Something he'd done at least five times since they sat down to watch the movie. She looked up at him and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

"How are you feeling?"

It was a simple question, for most. But to come from Grissom's lips was truly something she cherished. The Grissom of even just a year ago would have never thought to ask that simple question—or, if he had, would have not been able to find the right words to express it.

"Better now." She breathed and was reward with a small smile from Grissom. "Im going to hop in the shower." She stood and shot him an unmistakable look as she went to walk away.

"I'll be in in a minute." He began just as his phone rang. He looked at his watch realizing they'd only been back from about three hours, _how could they possibly call him back in?_

Grissom phished his phone out of his pocket to look at the caller ID. It was a number he didn't recognize. A 415 number. He heard the shower water turn on down the hall.

"Grissom."

"Hi Dr. Grissom. It's Dave Crow."

"Oh, Mr. Crow." Grissom furrowed brows and looked toward the bedroom, but Sara had already disappeared.

"How are you?"

"I'm Fine." He began, "I'd ask how you are, but I'm sure you're not calling just to exchange polite pleasantries."

"You're right. How's Sara?"

"You heard about the incident today?"

"What incident?"

"Oh... it was nothing. She um—" Grissom wasn't sure how to recover from that so just spit it out, "She was with a victim in her last breaths. I thought maybe that's why you were calling."

"No. But I'm glad to her she's okay."

"So what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Look, Grissom. Sara's an adult, and I really have no business medaling around in her life." Dave paused for a moment, "But it's come to my attention that perhaps you are more than just a boss to her... perhaps you share a more intimate relationship."

"Crow, I don't know—"

"I get it. You're on the same team. You're her supervisor, you're keeping it hush. I'm not here to ruin that."

Grissom suddenly felt very hot and uncomfortable.

"How did you—"

"She can't lie to me. She can try, but it's never really worked."

"Oh." Grissom was speechless, and a simple, one syllable response was all he could muster.

"She let me know that I'm no longer hold her power of attorney for medical decisions."

"When did she—"

"Today. Probably after that incident... I need to know that she's okay. We don't talk as much as we used to. I know we're both busy and it happens, but now that she has someone in her life, someone she can go to with the thing we used to talk about..." Grissom heard as Crow took a breath, "It's hard not being able to keep an eye on her."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

Grissom thought for a moment about the way to phrase this. "You seem to care a great deal for Sara, about her well-being."

"I know what you want to know. You want to know why I'm so invested? I was only a supervisor to her. Right?"

"Well, yes."

"Aren't you just a supervisor to her?"

"Are you suggesting that you and Sara had a relationship?" Grissom's mouth went dry.

"No. No" Crow quickly responded and then sighed, "I—I was a CSI level two when her father died..." His voice trailed off uncomfortably.

"You investigated the murder?" Grissom's voice conveyed his sheer disbelief in the scenario.

"Yes." He admitted. Suddenly everything became a bit more clear to him. He smiled, realizing what a gift it was for Sara to have someone as dedicated as Crow in her life.

"She's doing very well." The warmth and change in his voice was evident. "She incredibly talented, as you're well aware of. And she's found ways to harness that emotion and passion to use it as an asset on cases, rather than a flaw."

"Is she happy?"

"I believe so." He answered honestly and could hear Crow sigh on the other end of the line.

"Take care of her, Okay? Make sure she's happy... she deserves something good in her life."

"I promise." Grissom answered. He could count on one hand how many times he'd promised someone something in his life. It was something he didn't take to lightly as he would go through painstaking lengths to ensure its feasibility. This however, was a promise he need not convince himself of, he was committed to it, to her.

Grissom didn't mention the call to Sara. He knew she'd feel embarrassed, or perhaps betrayed by Crow. But he laid in bed that night thinking about the call. About what he had learned. About the true relationship Sara and Crow shared. He was unnerved by the idea that he didn't know such a big part of her life, of who she was. He battled with the idea for a while as Sara's soft sleeping breaths filled the quiet air. Then he came to a pause, realizing he had the rest of their lives to learn the things he didn't already know about her. The idea of which ignited a smile to form on his lips.

* * *

Sara stirred away to find herself along in bed. The empty side where Grissom should be was cold, _He had been gone a while._ She rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus them through the tired haze. _Jingling._ She heard jingling and... trotting. She looked toward the door as she heard it creak open. Grissom appeared there and stood in the doorway. Suddenly a brown and black object leaped toward her and pounced on top of her. Licking her face.

Sara let out a deep laugh. "Gil!"

He stood there in the doorway, arms folded, wearing a big grin. The dog continued to lick at her face and wag its tail.

"You remember Hank?"

"Your old neighbor's dog!?" The dog laid down, its tail continued to wag. "Boy, Hank! You got big!"

"Last time you saw him he was probably only a few months old."

"What are you doing with him?"

"Peter volunteered for another tour. He'll be stationed in the middle east for a while."

"How long?"

"Two or three years probably."

"Oh, wow." Sara continued to scratch behind Hank's hears. He rolled over, stretching and exposing his belly, his tail wagging. "Where's this guy gonna go?"

"Here." Sara looked up with furrowed brows. "That is, if you're okay with that."

Sara smiled widely, "That's just fine." She spoke not taking her eyes off Hank and his sweet disposition. Grissom moved to the bed and sat down next to them, rubbing Hank's belly. He looked over at Sara and watched as she glowed with happiness.

"I have off tonight to make up for calling me on on our night off."

She nodded, "Yeah I saw the schedule. I'm rescheduled for Thursday." She shrugged, "I guess now I'll have some company."

* * *

Sara walked in the front door and was immediately greeted by a wagging Hank.

"Hey buddy!" She knelt down to greet the mutt, she could get used to this.

She walked down the call to Grissom's home office, finding him sitting there at his desk, hunched over with a magnifying glass.

"Gil...What is this...?" He words drawn out and hesitant.

"It's a miniature model of my office." He spoke simply without look up.

"Why?"

"I want to get in his head."

"Well this is a pretty creepy way to do that..." He looked up to see worry etched on her face, despite her attempts to mask it.

He lifted one eyebrow, "You said this guy has a level of obsession that gives even me a run for my money? I'm up for the challenge." Hank plopped down between them and began to wimpper.

"Okay." she said hesitantly, "I'm going to go for a run with Hank. Care to join?"

"You go ahead, I want to work on this a little while longer."

* * *

 **April 2007**

"So he went into your office, without permission. Handled key evidence in an open serial homicide case..."

"And found the common element in all four miniatures. It's bleach." Grissom put two plates of food on the table as Sara handed him a glass of wine. They sat down together.

"Okay, so you think he's a janitor or someone affiliated with a cleaning service."

"It makes sense."

She forked a few leafs of her salad, "And you think if he's one of Dell's fosters, that his abuse as a child is affiliated with bleach? Cause it to trigger his psychosis?"

"That's correct."

"I shared a room with another girl in my third or fourth foster home. She never spoke, not once. Kept to herself, didn't play with the other kids, didn't read books or watch TV. She'd just sit there. Until someone would say ' _time for bed'_ or something like that. She'd go ballistic... I always assumed she'd been molested."

"How old was she?"

"At the time, no more than eight or nine. It's hard to remember. I think her name was Valerie or Victoria." She shrugged, "Anyway, I've seen it first hand, someone completely normal just snaps. This guy could just be blending in with crowd."

Over the next few weeks Grissom continued to build his miniature model of his office. He was becoming more and more enthralled with the case. But it was different than it had been before his sabbatical. Before, he was spent, mentally and physically exhausted. Now, he seemed up for the challenge, it was taking up a lot of his free time, but it wasn't consuming him like it had before.

* * *

Grissom and Sara drove out to a brothel where they were dispatched for a DB.

"Feels like bath water. It's gotta be 90 degrees." Sara dipped her hand into the pool beside the DB. She and Grissom were alone at the scene for now. "There's no way we're going to get an accurate T.O.D."

"Places like this always keep their pools warm. It encourages the girls to swim topples. It's good for business."

Sara shot him a questioning look.

"So they tell me..." he offered.

"mmhmm."

They continued processing the scene for the next few hours. Soon the sun came up and they weren't getting any further in their investigation. They called in Nick for backup.

"25 people here last night and nobody sees anything." Grissom now sported his straw hat as he and Sara walked away from the main building.

"Nice hat, honey." Two girls called at him as they passed by. He turned to look at them.

"So.." Sara's voice trailed off for a brief moment, "You've-uh, been to a place like this before?"

"I worked a murder-suicide at the Nauty Kitty once."

"No, no. Come on. You know what I mean."

"As a customer!? No."

"You've never paid for sex?"

"I have not. I find the whole idea very bleak."

"Really? How come?"

"Sex should provide the opportunity for human connection. But paid sex does the opposite of that. To me... sex without love is pointless. It makes you sad." He gave her intermittent glances as they walked on.

"Well... I'm pretty sure I don't make you sad..."

"No." He said simple and held her gaze for a moment longer, "You make me happy."

Her heart fluttered for a moment, realizing this was Grissom's way of saying "I love you." She felt warm all over as she softly smiled.

* * *

Nearly ten hours later the bazar case of Happy Moralas was wrapped up. Later that night she turned to him as they lay in bed. She pushed her lips to his,

"I love you too."

His blue eyes glowed he leaned in and deepened the kiss.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Please make sure to read CH 26 before continuing on here. I think something may be up with the FF site... For this story, each chapter has been getting an average for 400 views with 4 to 10 comments each. However, for CH 26, it only received 3 views and 1 comment in two days. :O

I hope everyone is still enjoying this story! Reviews/comments are always appreciated and encouraging. Thanks!

* * *

 **May 2007**

Sara sat upright in bed stirring a cup of yogurt in her hand. Godzilla played out on the screen. Her eyes bounced between the movie and Grissom's boyish grin lighting up his excited face.

"I can't believe you've never seen Godzilla."

She shrugged, "Greg's also always getting on my case with never having seen some of the classics." She paused and smiled, "Hard to believe that someone can watch this and believe it's real."

"It was well produced for its time." He quipped back.

"I mean our lizard group." She was referring to the case they were in the middle of working. The case was still ongoing but the two decided to head home for a few hours and take a break. They had each already worked a double the night before.

"I always feel bad for the monster."

"Then you better turn it off before they use the oxygen destroyer on him." He smiled back at her and stood, whistling for Hank to join him. Sara put down her yogurt and reached for the remote to turn off the movie. As she did, she saw a piece of paper sticking out from Grissom's Shakespeare Sonnet Collectors Bind. She pulled it out of the book to reveal her name scrawled across it along with the beginning of the lab's address.

She readjusted herself to sit up a bit and took a better look at the envelope in her hands. She looked toward the bedroom door to see he wasn't in sight and hesitantly decided to open it.

He had dated the letter at the time of writing it and she quickly realized this was written while he was away on sabbatical. She decided to read on.

 _Sara,_

 _I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you. Even though we're far apart, I can see you as vividly as if you were here with me. I said I'll miss you, and I do. As Shakespeare more ably wrote my sentiment in Sonnet #47..._

 _"Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, And each doth good turns now onto the other: When that mine eye is famish'd for a look, Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother. With my love's picture then my eye doth feast. And to the painted banquet bids by heart; Another time mine eye is my heart's guest. And in his thoughts of love doth share a part: So either by thy picture or my love, Thyself away art resent still with me; For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move. And I am still within them and they with thee; Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight. Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight."_

 _I anxiously await to return to you, to our home together._

 _Amanter_ , _Gil_

Sara looked up toward the door once more. Her heat beating fast as she thumbed over the words on the page.

 _Amanter_ she searched the corners of her mind to remember what this word was. _Lovingly,_ she realized. It was the latin word for lovingly.

The two had shared this life together comfortably for roughly two years now. Neither had taken the time or effort to express what that meant to the other. She had simply been happy to enjoy his company, to build the life they now had. She though she knew how he felt about her, but seeing it written here in his own words created a new dimension.

She quickly put the letter back in the envelope and slid it back into the book.

* * *

Later that night, after the case was closed and they returned home, Sara stood in the Kitchen cleaning up the dishes from their dinner.

Grissom had gone to change into more comfortable clothing. He made the bed and took Godzilla out of the DVD player. He then noticed the book on the night stand, realizing he had left it there two days ago when he had had the night off alone. He opened the book to find Sara's letter slipped in between the pages of Sonnet #25 and #26. His heart stopped for a moment, _she had read the letter._

Then a small smile formed on his lips. If he were to be honest with himself, he'd realize that he'd left the book out on purpose, in hopes that she might read it. He walked out to the kitchen and came up from behind her as she finished off the last of the dishes, pressing his body against hers. He rested his chin on her shoulder and kissed her neck.

She leaned into his touch as he continued to trail kisses along her neck. He pushed the strap of her tank top and bra away to kiss her shoulders. She turned to him,

"What's gotten into you?" She smiled. She slipped off her dish gloves and turned in his embrace to face him, effectively pinning herself between his pressing body and the cold sink. He brought both his hands to either side of her face and dipped his head to take her lips into his. Kissing her passionately.

"I meant it." He finally spoke when he pulled his head back just far enough to look into her eyes. Her questioning look caused him to continue, "I saw you read the letter..."

She smiled, "Why didn't you send it?"

"For the same reason I can never find those words to say to you in person." He let out a small sigh, "I wish I could."

She shook her head and gently kissed his lips, "You don't have to," She smiled, "We're on the same page."

* * *

The next few nights were tough. Working shift after shift. She was glad they shared that moment together because it had been days since they'd been alone like that now. The memory of that night helped her cope with missing him.

* * *

Catherine walked up to the scene to see Lady Heather on a stretcher. She approached Brass,

"Like a bad penny, some people just keep showing up."

"Did you call Grissom?"

Brass sighed, he had not. He knew he should have. Besides the history Gil shared with Heather, he had also been next on the dispatch sheet. But Brass couldn't bring himself to do it. At the very least it would cause tension between he and Sara. Brass wanted to protect them, even though his efforts, he knew, would be fruitless when it came to Heather's powers.

"No."

And Catherine noted the sad look Brass had accompanied with his one syllable response.

"I'll call in Sara for help."

"Oh. You sure? I think Greg's available." Brass tried hard to mask his concern.

"No, he's on lone out to Days." She pulled out her phone and texted Sara the address.

A little while later Sara arrived, kit in hand, and joined Catherine in the western theme park. They processed the criem scene together.

"I'm assuming that they don't actually serve alcohol here. Must have brought their own. Single malt."

"It's an rich man's sport."

"How much do you think a night like this would cost?" Sara mused out loud.

"Heather once told me she clears 20 grand a week. And that was before Lady Heather .com...Where's Grissom tonight?"

"Following up on the DHS records from Dell's foster kids."

Catherine sighed, "Have you seen that miniature he's making of the office? It really freaky."

"Yeah..."

But Sara's mind was elsewhere. She had only briefly crossed paths with Heather on a previous investigation. She was curious about her. While Grissom never out right told her, she had heard the chatter through the halls. Speculative on whether he had spent the night with her.

"What is she like?" She asked hesitantly, not sure if she really wanted the answer.

"Beautiful. Smart. Intense. Charming." Catherine looked up, "The only woman I've ever seen rattle Grissom."

Sara could feel her stomach drop as Catherine continued on.

"I mean—he kind of liked that Forensic Anthropologist, Terry Miller. Remember her?"

"Yeah." Sara's voice was small as she tried to distract herself by bagging evidence.

"But, she wasn't enough of a challenge for him. Heather, on the other hand... uninhibited and can beat him at mental chess? They had chemistry, and he is a scientist." Catherine walked over to Sara, "I have no proof, and I _know_ he'd never tell me... but I'm certain they spent the night together."

Sara could feel the blood rush to her face. Feeling hot and uncomfortable suddenly. She regretted opening this can of worms.

"Wonder which one wore the chaps."

"Lots of coins and toothpicks. They don't sweep much." She desperately tried to resteer the conversation.

"I mean, more power to him really. To find somebody outside of work? Cause you start fishing from the company pier and you're asking for trouble."

Sara hadn't been confronted with this much personal talk about Grissom in a very long time. She didn't know what to say or how to act to mask her true knowledge of his intimate life. Furthermore, Catherine's sentiment was troubling. She could feel her heart beating faster and faster, praying that the conversation would end.

"My fantasy does not include costumes, or pain. And certainly not sawdust. You?"

 _Help._

 _"_ They took her to desert palms. I should probably get over there to process her."

"I'll do it." Sara quickly volunteered. Her heart was telling her to stop, that she was going to get heart, but her mind was too curious. She needed to know this woman that clearly had a hold over Grissom.

Sara left to make her way to the hospital and Catherine whipped out her phone.

"Grissom."

"Hey."

"Catherine."

"It's Lady Heather, she's been hurt... they took her to Desert Palms."

"I'm on my way." Catherine could hear the sense of urgency in his voice, confirming everything she'd just said to Sara moments earlier.

* * *

Brass stood in Heather's room and asked her some questions about the case.

"I need a name."

"Mr. Oakly. I have his number but not on me. You'll have to look him up."

A knock on the door had Brass turn his head to see Sara entering.

"Hi. I'm with the crime lab, Sara Sidle."

"Sara..." Brass eyes her curiously. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to collect your clothes and trace evidence from your body." She directed the answer to Heather.

Sara took in Brass' uncomfortable domineer. He avoided eye contact with her. And suddenly, Sara realized it must be true. Because Brass was the only one who knew about her relationship with Grissom. If he was this uncomfortable having Sara and Heather in the same room... She sighed internally, not knowing what this really meant for her and Grissom now.

Brass stormed off, having been agitated by Heather's responses that he deemed were wasting his time.

"I don't respond well to men who judge me strictly on my profession."

"I get the same thing... Law Enforcement." Sara offered. "May I move your hair?"

Heather nodded and Sara began to snap away photos. "Grissom." Her soft voice spoke as she opened her eyes to see him standing in the doorway.

He looked between Sara and Heather and suddenly felt very ashamed.

"I'll be.. done in a minute." Sara said to Grissom before turning back to take more photos of Heather. The look on his face at the sight of the two in the same room was not lost on either of them.


	28. Chapter 28

Grissom was back in the lab now after having spent some time alone with Heather in the hospital. He walked passed a layout room to Sara with her nose down a microscope. He entered,

"Any results on Heather Kessler?"

"So far all the prints come back to her... there was some lipstick around the rim of a shot glass. I haven't had a chance to test it." She held it up and looked at him, "You think it's her shade?" She pursed her lips in a smile, providing him relief with knowing that it was all in good fun.

"Heather's not supposed to drink, because of her diabetes. Which could explain the hyperglycemia and shock." His tone was sad and distant.

Sara softened hers, "Catherine found a pair of men's underwear in the toilet. Any evidence on them would have been washed away... But she also found seminal fluid in a tissue on the floor nearby."

"She was sexually assaulted?" Sara watched as concern and disgust crossed his features."

"She refused an SAE kit so we'll never know."

"There were no defensive wounds No skin or rope fibers under her nails. At first blush I figured he might have ambushed her, except I noted three separate strangulation attempts on her neck." Sara paused, handing Grissom the photo of Heather's neck before continuing, "She would have had time to fight back."

Grissom couldn't take his eyes off the photo, "This makes no sense. She's very strong." His voice continued to be soft and sad. Sara watched him closely, "Tough as nails. Why didn't she fight?" He finally looked back up at her but Sara had to look down, to look away.

She was trying to be strong, to not be jealous or hotheaded but it was difficult to watch as Grissom displayed so much emotion for his friend. She had never cared that Grissom found it difficult to show or say his emotions to Sara. She thought their relationship was carried on by something stronger. She assumed that he didn't know how to show those emotions, not that they weren't there.

But seeing him now, with all of the concern and gentleness he displayed with Heather made her realize he wasn't incapable of it at all. Perhaps just incapable of it with her, which made it so much harder to swallow.

"You'll have to ask her that." She finally spoke, "I don't have that answer yet."

Grissom nodded.

Sara's voice was small and nearly inaudible, "Look, I—I don't know what it is that is between you and Heather... but,"

"Sara, DNA from the tissue is an unknown male." Catherine walked into the layout room. "I'm going to head back to the Scene with Brass, care to join?"

"No, no. That's alright. I'm going to finish processing this evidence first. Keep me updated."

Catherine agreed and left. Once he knew she was out of ear shot Grissom spoke,

"Sara..."

"Never mind. I'm fine." She forced a small smile and walked past him out of the layout room.

* * *

"Gate's open" Brass and Catherine walked back through the wooden gate into the wild west theme park.

"Okay, Jim. Give it up, I know you know something about Grissom and Lady Heather."

"I know something a lot juicer than Grissom and Lady Hea—" Brass' sentence came to a halt at the site of another body.

"Who shot the serif?"

An hour later Dave arrived at the scene to tend to the body. They went through the motions of processing the body. Catherine and Brass walked back to their respective cars.

"Are you going to spill?"

"What's that?"

"What's jucier than Grissom and Lady Heather?"

Brass smiled, and answered somewhat cryptically. "The answer is closer than you think."

"Hey Catherine! Brass." Sara approached, "Where do you want me to start processing?"

"I'll see you two later." Brass said as he slipped into his car.

"Come, I'll show you." Catherine spoke to Sara as they turned back to the scene. She couldn't understand what Brass was trying to say and it bothered her.

* * *

Sara went home after hours of processing the scene for a quick shower and sleep before next shift started. To her surprise Grissom was not there.

She turned on the shower and took a long, steamy soak, trying desperately to clear her head and give herself some perspective. She toweled off her hair.

"Gil?" She called out, but no answer. He still wasn't home. She sat in bed reading a while, hoping to see him before falling asleep. But soon her eyes grew heavy and she couldn't fight it any longer.

Sara woke five hours later to find the bed beside her was still empty. "Hank?" She called out. He wasn't in the bedroom so she walked out to find the dog laying by the front door. Something he did until both Sara and Grissom returned home for the night. She sighed realizing Grissom really never had come home.

Her phone began to ring, "Sidle."

"Hey Sara, Brass and I are headed to Heather's now with a warrant. Meet me back at the lab in about an hour?"

"Will do. See you then."

Sara quickly got ready and left for the lab. She walked the hallways looking for Grissom but he was no where to be found. "Where are you?" She texted him, but nearly half an hour later she still received no response.

* * *

Brass knocked on the door. A few moments Lady Heather appeared.

"This isn't a good time." She quipped quickly.

"We have a warrant to search your house. And you better put some sunblock on because we're going downtown. " Brass' tone was unamused.

"My memory isn't any better than it was yesterday." She looked between Brass and Catherine, "I'm not up to it."

"Then we can swing by the hospital and you can explain to them why you checked yourself out early against doctors orders."

"We're investigating a homicide." Catherine offered.

"I don't understand."

"Where were you last night?"

"You may come in."

Catherine and brass followed her into the foyer.

"I was here."

"Can anyone verify that?" Brass' disbelief and impatience rang through. "Preferably someone not on the payroll."

She gazed past them, "Captain Brass would like to know where I was last night." Catherine and Brass turned to follow her gaze and watched as Grissom emerged from down the hall.

"She was here. With me." Grissom spoke casually, sipping his tea.

Catherine and Brass exchanged looks of disbelief before Catherine turned back to Grissom. Anger etched across her face, "Outside. Now."

* * *

"What were you thinking?" The anger on her face laced her tone. "I can't believe you. As soon as a case—"

"Catherine." Brass hurried over and interjected. "Go finish out the scope of the warrant."

Catherine rolled her eyes at Grissom and walked off. As soon as she was gone Brass turned Grissom around and started to walk with him.

"Gil."

"She needed a friend."

"Does Sara know?"

Grissom shot a bewildered look his way, "Why?"

"Look, Gil. I know we've never come out and talked about this but you know that I know about you and Sara. So now, I'm taking off my detective hat and I'm asking you as a friend. Does Sara know you're here?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Why would she need to know?"

Brass sighed heavily, "You're creating some real trouble for yourself here Grissom. And not just about work." He took a moment to think as they approached Grissom's car, "Go back to the lab, find Sara and talk to her. You don't want her thinking something is going on here that isn't actually happening. Right? Nothing's going on?"

"Of course not."

"Good. Go do that then. Do you have any idea what kind of chatter she's had to listen to over the last day about you and Heather? You just better hope you get to her about this before the rumors do."

Grissom felt a hard lump in his throat. He hadn't considered Sara or her feelings once since this all started. He hadn't even given her a second thought.

* * *

Sara stood in the layout room with Catherine and Wendy.

"Mandy got a hit." Catherine spoke while ready a text from the lab tech. "Vinny."

"Well he definitely had access."

Catherine picked up her phone as she and Wendy exited the layout room. "Sara will fill you in." She said coldly as she saw Grissom approach.

"We may have a suspect." Sara said sadly. He took in her appearance. She looked tired and sad and her eyes were a little red. _Had she been crying?_

There was a long silence between them as they stood alone in the room. Sara busied herself with collected the paperwork and photos from the layout table.

"I'm the only one Heather trusts." He finally spoke.

"I get it." But her eyes said something different.

"Sara..."

"Yeah?" She looked up at him and watched as he battled with what to say. "It's fine." She relieved him, "Do what you need to do." With that she exited the room. Her cold, hurt, sad voice cutting through him. _Jim had been right._

* * *

 _"_ Sara?" Grissom walked in the door and quickly greeted Hank. "Sara?" He tried again. No answer. He walked through the loft until he made his way to the bedroom. There she was sitting up in bed with a book perched open on her fingers. She looked up,

"You're home." It was now painfully clear she had been trying. Her eyes slightly puffy and a tissue in her hand.

"Sara..."

"What?"

"I want to explain..."

She took a seep breath in and exhaled heavily.

He spent the next few minutes explain the friendship he shared with Heather. That he had tracked down Heather's granddaughter for her and reunited them. That that was where he'd been for the past few hours.

"And where were you last night? When you didn't come home."

"I was with her." He moved closer to her and sat at the edge of the bed. "Nothing happened."

"What about last February?"

"Last February?"

"When you didn't come home after another case was closed involving her daughter?"

"No, nothing."

"How about ever?"

Grissom pinched his nose hard. His eyes squinted in perceived pain, "One night... over four years ago."

Sara nodded, "So Catherine was right."

"Sara... that was a long time ago."

"Did it make you sad?"

"I don't understand."

"Did having sex with Heather make you sad?"

He sighed, realizing what she was referring to now. "I did not love her then, and I do not love her now."

He moved closer to her and hesitantly wrapped her in his arms, "I'm sorry to have made you think that." He finally spoke as he felt her heave a few tears. Tears that she'd been bottling up for days. He rubbed small circles on her back with his pam. "If it makes you feel better, Jim is very angry with me."

She stifled a laugh, "Why would that make me feel any better?"

"Because I got a long winded lecture from him today about taking your feelings into account."

She laughed, "Really?"

"Yes. He's also very aware that we know he knows." He smiled seeing her features lighten up, "Come on, I picked up dinner from that vegetarian place you like." She grabbed his outstretched hand to let him puller her to her feet. He kissed her forehead gently.


	29. Chapter 29

**May 2007**

"Miniature killer?"

"Not sure yet. This doll was found here, but there's not miniature to go with it. It wasn't positioned like the body."

"Maybe the killer needed to make it later."

"We can't rule anything out." Grissom looked at Sara, "It's all yours my dear." She smiled as he exited the scene.

* * *

"Grissom, First name Natalie was specific enough for DHS to release the records. Her name is Natalie Davis. They're sending over her records now." Sophia could hear a strange relief on the other side of the line.

Grissom and Sophia walked up to a home they now know Natalie had been in as a foster child, other than Dell's home. The lawn was covered in toys and running children. They walked through the house as the followed the mother, kids running and weaving around them. Grissom couldn't help but picture Sara there as a little girl, _was this what is was like for her?_ He wondered.

"After a few dozen kids you get good at knowing which ones are damaged and which ones are broken. Natalie was broken."

* * *

Grissom and Catherine found her Biological father. They made their way to the casino where he performed his ventriloquist act. They watched as he sang his act, Little Bisque Doll.

"Okay.. We're in a David Lynch movie." Catherine said slightly horrified after witnessing the act.

Once he wrapped up, the two CSIs made their way to speak with him over by the bar.

"Yeah. That was my other daughter. Natalie was 6 and Chloe was 4 when my wife passed away."

"What happened?"

The man then moved to let his doll tell the story of how Natalie killed her younger sister.

"Had the girls been fighting" Catherine questioned.

"How did Natalie deal?" Grissom questioned.

"I don't know. It was hard on both of us. I tried for a while but I just couldn't handle it. I had to give her up."

* * *

Natalie reported for work that night at the lab. She rolled her maintenance cart to Grissom's office and entered. There, she saw the miniature he had been creating in his spare time. _Almost complete_ she noted. She retrieved a cardboard box from her cart and placed it carefully on Grissom's desk.

Slowly and methodically she unpacked the miniature. She turned the motor on and exited the office, closing the door behind her.

She clocked out and made her way to the garage and laid in wait.

* * *

Sara rode the elevator up to fourth floor of the parking garage as her phone rang.

"Hello Gilbert" She smiled and listened as he told her of the miniature killer's identity, _Natalie Davis_ , "Alright, I'll be right there. Meet you at the lab."

She opened the trunk of her car and placed her kit inside.

"Sara."

Sara quickly turned to see a woman standing there behind her. Electricity suddenly ran through her veins. She fell to the floor hard.

* * *

Grissom returned from the casino and entered his office. A horrified look etched over his features as he saw something perched on his desk. A miniature of an upturned car. He took a closer look and grabbed a tissue to pick up the car. Underneath was a doll, its hand moving. It was a girl with brown hair and it was wearing a department issued CSI bullet proof vest.

His heart stopped, his vision went blurry and he could feel a noisy heat fill his ears. "Sara." escaped his lips in a whisper.

Grissom whipped out his phone and quickly dialed her number. It rang through with no answer. He tired again. Same result.

He sped out of his office toward reception, giving her phone another dial. "Come on Sara."

"Gil."

"Brass?"

"We found her car in the garage... it looks like an abduction."

Grissom closed his phone and approached Judy. "Who was in my office while I was gone?"

"No one. Just some girl from Janitorial. She emptied the trash, vacuumed. That's all."

* * *

Nick held a magnifying glass to the miniature.

"Doll's still alive. That means Sara's still alive." Greg's voice shook slightly.

"Generic stretch of desert? She could be anywhere in a four state radius." Nick wasn't as optimistic.

Grissom entered, "Her name is Natalie Davis and she works for our janitorial service."

"Here? In the lab?" Catherine was horrified.

"For over a month."

Grissom, "She has no home phone and no drivers license."

"Okay I've got it." Greg interjected, "A 2007 red Mustang. Totaled outside the Trip Wire Bar six weeks ago. Lead CSI on the case... Sara Sidle."

"Pull up the case photos."

Grissom watched the screen intently as Greg did as he was asked. He remembered that case. He remembered slowly caressing Sara's arm as he took the camera from her. He remembered the warning look she gave him as he did it, the warning look she always gave him when he was being to affectionate at work. He looked closer at the photo. There she was in the crowd.

"Oh my god. She was at the crime scene." Grissom voice had softened as he looked up at his team.

Nick, "So she salvages the car and somehow gets it out to the desert? Grabs Sara and puts her under it."

Grissom's hand moved to his moth. He could feel stinging tears behind his eyes.

Warrick, "I don't get it. What does Sara have to do with bleach?"

Catherine, "I don't know. This just feels different."

"It is different" Grissom stared out into nothing as he spoke absent mindedly. The relization of what was happening finally started to sync in. His heart constricted, "This girl holds me responsible for the death of Ernie Dell. I took away the only person she ever loved. So she's going to do the same to me."

Catherine, Nick, Warrick and Greg all looked up with furrowed brows and he continued his statement, "It's not about some obsession with bleach. Or some dead sister. Or the doll." He looked at Catherine, realization seeping into his eyes, "Not your little bisque doll."

He hurried back to his office leaving the team alone in the layout room and found what he was looking for online. A username on the miniature forum, NOTURLITTLEBISQUEDOLL.

"This is Grissom. I need an attorney generals waiver."

* * *

Warrick and Nick picked her up and transported her back to the lab.

"I'd like to talk to her alone." Brass hesitantly agreed.

"I'm so impressed by the way you embrace your passion." He purposefully but on a soothing voice, You'd make a great CSI. This last one was brilliant. You studied our crime scene so well. Tracking the car all the way to the junk yard and then towing it out to the desert where you knew we wouldn't find it. And then, the way you killed Sara." He couldn't even think about the words that had just come out of his mouth. He needed to push forward.

Natalie shook her head. "I didn't kill her."

"You didn't?"

She shook her head again. She watched as relief washed over his features. "This is about her isn't it!? Her, her, her. It's always about her. It's always about her." She started to sing the little bisque doll song over and over again.

She was slipping away, "Natalie. Please tell me where Sara is." Natalie was gone and Grissom lost his patience. "Natalie!" He Screamed and shook her. "Tell me where Sara is!?" He then felt Brass' hands on his shoulders.

"Gil, come on." He lead him out of the interrogation room. "We're going to find her." Grissom stared right through him and he wasn't quite sure if he could hear him.

Grissom was in a fog. _wake up_ he coaxed his mind but nothing would change. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't going away.

"Gil." Catherine approached the two men. "Just spoke to the security guard at the mall parking garage. Apparently she's there a couple nights a week."

"Yeah. She likes the veggie place downstairs."

"He said she was there tonight."

"Yeah around seven."

"What else do you know, Gil."

Grissom furrowed his brow and walked off.

"Cut him a break." Brass spoke to Catherine once Grissom was gone.

"You knew. Didn't you? About He and Sara?"

Brass nodded, "I told you it was closer than you think."

Catherine shook her head, "I would have never guessed." She paused as squinted her eyes as the detective, "How long have you known?"

He shrugged, "A year or so. But I don't now how long its been going on for."

* * *

The rain started to pile up under the car. Its foaming top layer splashing hard against her face. She fought to breath, to keep her head above the water. But her arm was trapped making it harder and harder as the water continued to rise. She gasped for air.

She closed her eyes and pictured Grissom's face. Letting it calm her. Letting it giver her courage. She flashed open her eyes and yanked at her trapped arm hard. Screaming in pain as she worked to free it. _It's just a matter of physics_ she kept telling herself.

* * *

"Grissom."

"Gil. The tow truck guy says icebox canyon. S and R are headed out there now. Get your guys."

* * *

Grissom road along with Nick to the coordinates the helicopter relayed over the radio having spotted the car.

He leapt out of the car before it came to a full stop and ran to the flipped over mustang. It was filled with sand.

"Sara!" He screamed. But she wasn't there. Nick dug at the sand, assuming it got there from the flooding rain water. He lifted her CSI vest from the sand. Grissom looked over horrified.

"Catherine! I've got shoe prints."

"She got out from under that car. Okay everyone listen up! We're searching on foot!"

Grissom whipped out his binoculars to search the stretch of desert. The two followed the foot prints for miles. They continued to walk along. Finding little towers of rocks as they went. Proof that Sara was of sound mind.

"Gil..."

He couldn't look at her. He just kept walking and looking ahead. "I can't live without her." his voice was so small and absent of emotion.

"We'll find her Gil."

Grissom took another look through his binoculars. He lowered them, "Oh no..." He started sprinting. She followed.

A body. He knelt beside it and started to dig at the sand and flip it over.

"Its not her." Catherine said but he could barely hear her. The realization that she might not actually surrive this became real.

"Where is she Catherine? It's 110 degrees she's been out here all day. Without water. She's disoriented. She's dehydrated."

"She's a survivor."

Grissom nodded but the look etched on his face was breaking Catherine's heart. He looked hopeless.

Meanwhile, Nick and Sophia sped along through stretches of desert to try and cover more land.

"Wait. Go that way! Go that way!" Sophia pulled the car around like she was told.

"SARA!" Nick screamed as he sprinted to her.

"We found her!" Sophia radioed in, "She's alive. We need a medic now."

Nick poured water over her to cool down her body temperature as they waited for the medical helicopter to arrive. Just a few minutes after the medics showed up, Catherine's car skidded to a halt nearby. Grissom leapt out of the car and sprinted to them.

He knelt next to her and watched helplessly as the paramedics worked on her.

Catherine, "How is she?"

"She's not responding," A paramedic answered. Grissom went numb. He couldn't breath. He quickly wiped away tears from his eyes as they lifted her on the stretcher.

"Move over. I"m going with her." Grissom hoped into the helicopter and felt as it lifted off. He reached for her delicate hand and cupped it in his. It felt lifeless.

* * *

Catherine and Nick stood together as they watched the helicopter fly up. She put her hand on Nick.

"Good work."

He nodded silently. "Should we meet them at the hospital?"

"Yeah. Let's do that."

* * *

He stared at her face. _Open your eyes._ He pleaded internally.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly. The first thing she saw was his name tag. Then she lifted up to his face, his eyes, his soft smile. And just as quickly her eyes closed again.

He could feel his heart beat start again. _She was going to be okay._


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! Its always great to read your kind words and perspectives on the story. Keep them coming :)

Here's Chapter 30! Enjoy!

* * *

The helicopter touched down on the landing pad and the medics quickly jumped to their feet to unload the stretcher. Grissom followed closely running with them into the hospital. Three doctors were their waiting for their arrival and immediately took to Sara. A nurse came over and cut Sara out of her clothing. Peeling it off of her layer by layer, exposing her skin.

Grissom knew her face was burnt and scuffed and her shoulder dislocated, but hadn't realized the extent of her injuries until her clothes were gone. Bruising covered her abdomen, cuts and abrasions ran up her sides. He felt sick.

Soon the doctors wheeled her away and stopped Grissom as he tried to follow.

"We're taking her into surgery. This nurse can show you to the waiting area."

"I want to go with her."

"You can't. Please step back and let us do our jobs."

"How long? How long is the surgery."

"Could take one to three hours." With that the doctor sprinted off past the double doors and Grissom was left standing there with the nurse, trying to usher him to the appropriate waiting room.

Grissom sat in the waiting room and rested his elbows on his knees, face in his hands. His mind kept drifting to memories of her, of their life together.

 _The time she wiped chalk dust from his check._

 _Her bouncing ponytail the day they met._

 _The way she'd smugly finish his crossword puzzles for him in pen._

 _Her lavender scented hair._

 _The feeling of her head resting on his chest._

 _The look in her eye when she realized she solved a case._

He wanted to cry. To break down right then and there. The exhaustion from the day finally getting to him, he felt delirious.

"Gil." Catherine's hand appeared on his shoulder as she took a seat next to him. He looked up to her. His face warn and tired. He was a mess. "Where is she?"

"She's in surgery."

Catherine nodded, "Have her parent's been notified?"

Grissom shook his head.

"Okay, well I can take care of that. I'll go get her next of kin information from reception."

"No. She doesn't have parents." Catherine furrowed her brows, "I mean—her father's passed away when she was a kid. She and her mom don't really talk."

"Oh." Catherine suddenly felt ashamed that she didn't know that about Sara. "Okay... what about next of kin?"

"You're looking at him."

Catherine's eyes went wide. _Just how involved are they!?_

"Hey guys." Greg took a seat across from Catherine and Grissom and handed each a cup of coffee. "So, I just went to Sara's apartment to get her some things..." Greg held up a key, "She gave me a key a few years back incase she ever lost hers or there was an emergency."

Grissom was looking down at his feet, only really half listening to the younger man.

"Anyway." Greg continued. "Apparently and Asian family lives there now."

Grissom looked up, "Yeah, she hasn't lived there for some time. I'll get her things later."

Greg and Catherine exchanged looks as Grissom hung his head once more. The waiting was killing him. He needed an updated, he needed to see her.

"Sidle. Family of Sidle." A doctor emerged and Grissom jumped to his feet. "She's doing well. My colleagues are finishing up the surgery now. She has a decent amount of recovery time ahead of her and will need to have someone to help take care of her. Who will be in charge of her recovery?"

"I will." Grissom spoke up. Catherine and Greg hung back but could here the conversation. Brass, Nick and Warrick joined.

"We'll need to talk through what that recovery will look like. Her skin is badly burned and will need bandages replaced every few hours for the first few weeks. Her dislocated shoulder is now immobilized. She'll be in quite a bit of pain and discomfort for a while. Other than that bruises and abrasions will just take time to heal on their own. I'll have a nurse write all of this down for you."

"Thank you."

"One last thing. She had quite a few old injuries that played up into this incident. An old fracture to a few of her ribs made it easier for them to break. Same with her left wrist." Grissom nodded sadly as the doctor spoke.

"They are very old injuries."

Catherine's curiosity was getting the best of her. _What old injuries could they be talking about. Had she been hurt on a scene before she moved to Vegas?_ She continued to listen.

"Yes. The incidents are documented in medical history."

"When can I see her?"

The doctor looked at his watch, "She'll be transferred to her private room in the next 30 minutes. But she won't be awake for some time now. There's no way of knowing when she's wake up from this. She's been through a great deal of trauma."

"Thank you, Doctor." Grissom made his way back to his seat. Now surrounded by the whole team. They stared at him blankly waiting for an updated.

"She'll be out in 30 minutes or so." Was all he provided, but they had heard the whole conversation.

"She has fractured ribs?" Catherine spoke up.

"It seems so."

"From an old injury?"

"Mhmm."

"What old injury?"

"Catherine—" Brass warned.

"From when she was a kid." Grissom responded simply. "I need to go make a few calls." Grissom got up and excused himself, walking down the hall and out of earshot from the team.

"Catherine, the guy is going through enough. Now's not the time to pry."

"He's not the only one here who needs answers. She's our colleague, our friend."

"She's the love of his life." Brass spoke softly and Catherine exhaled.

"I'm just so confused by all of this."

Meanwhile down the hall, Grissom scrolled through his recent calls to find a specific number.

"Crow."

"Dave, It's Grissom." His voice was small and sad despite his best efforts to mask it.

"No. No. I saw the news, but they didn't release the CSI's name... Sara?" The end of his sentence was but a whisper.

"It was Sara." He confirmed, "She's coming out of surgery now... the doctors say she's going to be okay."

"God." Crows voice was angry and hurt, "I—I" He didn't have the words, hew knew not what to say.

"She's going to be okay." Grissom spoke again, trying to convince himself just as much as the man on the other line.

"Would it be alright if I came down there?"

"I think she'd like that very much." Grissom could hear typing and fumbling on Crows side of the phone.

"Next flight out is in two hours. I'll see you soon."

"Okay—Dave?"

"Yes?"

"One question... I—um... How do I... Should I, rather, contact Laura?"

He could hear Dave sigh heavily. "No. Not yet at least. Wait for Sara to wake up and let her decide. This news could cause her mother's mental state to lapse."

"Okay. Thanks."

Grissom rejoined the team in the waiting room to see jut Greg and Brass were left.

"We'll be here in shifts." Brass offered, "Catherine, Nick and Warrick left to get the evidence and paperwork squared away." He paused and looked at his friend, "Gil, maybe you should go home, get cleaned up. Swing by Sara's place and get her some things to make her comfortable here."

Grissom just shook his head and gave no verbal response.

"Dr. Grissom." A nurse read his name off of a form and he quickly stood, "I can take you to her room now if you'd like to see her." He nodded and followed her back down a hallway. She opened a door and let him inside.

There she was. Dressed in a hospital gown, covered in wires, monitors and IV drips. Bandages lined the right side of her face. He sat down at a chair by her bedside and picked up her limp hand, cupping it gently in his. He kissed her hand and rested his head on the bed. Then finally, he allowed a few stray tears to escape from his eyes.

The steady sound of the monitors beeping let him know that she was okay. She was going to be okay. He sat there diligently by her bedside for the next three hours praying that she'd wake soon. Then suddenly, he felt her fingers move within his grasp. He quickly lifted his head off the cot.

"Sara?" His voice was small and soft. "Sara?" He tried again and slowly her eyes began to flutter open.

"Gilbert." She managed through wrangled breathing.

"Shhh. It's okay. You're okay." He grazed his hand over her hair. "Here." He quickly brought her water with a straw."

She then started to look around. White walls, white ceiling, wires and tubes. She went to lift her right shoulder and yelped in pain.

"Honey don't move." He clicked the button for the nurse. "You've dislocated your shoulder. They had to perform surgery on it." He watched as her eyes began to panic.

"Gil." She managed as tears began to stream down her face. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Shh, honey. Please. You're going to be okay. You're okay now. You're safe." He squeezed her hand a little tighter. Then the nurse came in and assessed her levels, her chart and administered some more pain medication. Then just as quickly the nurse left.

"You found me." She managed.

"Of course we found you." His hand continued to run over her soft hair. "I can't live without you, Sara." He looked deep into her squinted eyes, "I love you."

She managed to smile through the pain. He had never come out and said those words to her before. A fact that was not lost on either of them.

"Gil..." Her speech took a lot of effort, "You shouldn't be here too long. It'll look suspicious. I'll be okay."

He simply shook his head, "Sara... they know. They all know."

"What?"

"I couldn't hide it through this."

She closed her eyes briefly, "What does this mean for us?"

"I don't know yet. But we'll figure it out. Don't worry. You're okay, and that's all that matters now."

* * *

"Can you tell me what room Sara Sidle is in?"

"I'm sorry, she's not taking visitors at the moment."

Brass heard the exchange happening at reception and stood to see the man standing here.

"Sir?"

The man turned to see Brass standing there.

"I'm Captain Brass with the LVPD, you're looking for CSI Sidle?"

"I am." The gentleman stuck out his hand to shake Brass' "I'm Dave Crow, an old friend of Sara's. Is she okay?"

"She's fine." Brass was wary of the man, never having heard of him before.

"Is Dr. Grissom here?"

"He's with her now. I'll see if he can come out." Brass disappeared down the hall and made his way to Sara's room for the first time. He looked through the small window on the door to see Grissom sitting at her bedside, talking softly to her as he held her hand. Brass entered, knocking on the door as he did.

"Hey Champ." He smiled and watched as she quickly pulled hand away from Grissom's.

"They know." Grissom reminded her.

"How are you feeling." Brass patted her leg.

"I'll be okay." She managed a smile through the pain.

"Gil, can I speak with you outside?"

Grissom nodded, "I'll be right back."

"I'm not going anywhere." She quipped back.

They stepped outside the room and Brass turned to him, "A man name Dave Crow is here to see Sara... Do you know who that is?"

Grissom nodded and smiled, "Yeah."

"Mr. Crow." Grissom approached the man in the waiting area who stood to his feet at the sight of Grissom.

"Grissom. How is she?"

"She's good. Come, she'll be happy to see you." Grissom lead him to Sara's room and opened the door for him.

"Dave?" She squinted to see him better.

"Hey sweetie." He took up the seat Grissom had just occupied and held her hand, "You gave me quite the scare you know."

Grissom closed the door to give the two some privacy and went back out to the waiting room.


	31. Chapter 31

Grissom walked back to the waiting room to find Brass and Greg sitting there making small talk.

"Hey." He took a seat nearest Greg, "Brass, while she's with Dave I'd like to run home and grab some of her things. Would you mind giving me a lift?"

"Not at all." Brass stood.

Grissom turned toward Greg, "Once Dave's out, feel free to go on in collect evidence from her—nail scrapings, trace from wounds, hair combings... I know she'll be happy to see you." Greg simply nodded in return as watched the two men make their way to the elevator.

The car ride was silent for the most part. They were just a few minutes away from their home when Brass finally spoke.

"So, who's Dave?"

"Oh, it's her mentor from San Francisco."

"She hasn't worked there in over eight years. They kept in touch?"

"They did. They're very close."

Brass was astonished by the candid responses he was receiving from Grissom. It was the most open he'd ever seen his friend about his personal life.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm okay now." He spoke honestly.

Brass pulled up in front of Grissom's loft.

"You must be exhausted." Brass spoke as the got out and made their way inside. "Why don't you take a quick shower while we're here. I'll have a cadet drop your car off at the hospital for you so you don't need to rely on us for a ride after this."

Grissom agreed. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, no. I'm Fine. I'll just wait here." He sat himself down on the couch. "Where's Hank?" He called to Grissom who had disappeared down the hall. He could hear him shuffling things around and stuffing an overnight bag.

"Still at the sitter's" He called back.

Grissom turned the shower water on. Before getting in the shower he took a look at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. A complete and total mess. Dirt and sand were speared on his face and caked in his hair. His eyes drooped from exhaustion. A quick shower would do him good.

No more than ten minutes later Grissom emerged cleanly showered, wearing some new clothing and slinging an overnight bag over his shoulder.

"Thanks again, Jim." He spoke softly as they left the loft.

* * *

Meanwhile, Dave wasted no time with Sara.

"I saw on the news that this Natalie person was in foster care. Did you have a connection there with her? I can't understand why you would be a target."

Sara shook her head against the pillow. "No, It wasn't about that. She said something while she was transporting me. Something that made it sound like it was revenge." Sara's voice was horse and small. Each word took effort. Her sore ribs became a constant reminder of not only this event, but the event that caused them to break originally.

"Revenge?"

"I think she blames Grissom for the death of Dell... her foster father."

"I'm sorry you went through this Sara."

"I'm fine now. Really." Dave shook his head, he wasn't buying it.

"It's okay to not be fine, Sara." He paused a moment, trying to find the right words. "I overheard that your old injuries... the ribs and wrist, that they were re broken."

"Yeah." Her voice was so small he could barely hear her. She was fighting back tears.

"You've healed so much since then, Sara. You've grown so much. Don't let this take you back. You're stronger than that."

A single tear left her eye and he gently wiped it away.

"Has anyone called my mother?"

"No, Grissom asked my advice on that while you were in surgery still... I told him to hold off. Figured that should be your decision."

Dave redirected the conversation to lighter and more fun topics. He told her about a new hire that reminded him of her when she first started out. Of the interesting crime's the team had solved recently. Of her old team members and where they were now.

"And how's Susan?"

"She's well. And Harry is headed off to college in the fall."

"Wow. He's 18 already isn't he?" Dave nodded, "I can't believe it. Where's he going?"

"Harvard." Dave glowed, "That idea you planted in his head all those years ago stuck." He looked down at this watch briefly, "I have to catch a flight soon to head back. I have a deposition I need to be present for in the morning."

"You really didn't need to come all this way, Dave."

"Of course I did." He reached out for her hand again, "I'm just so relieved you're safe." He paused a moment before continuing, "Now look, your recovery is going to be long and hard. It's going to be challenging. I need you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need. I can take a flight out the minute you call. You just need to say the word."

"I appreciate that, Dave, I really do. But I'll be fine." She gave a small smile, "Grissom's taken good care of me already."

He nodded and said goodbye before exiting and heading back to the waiting area. He decided to sit there for a few minutes, hoping to have a chance to talk to Grissom once more before departing for the airport.

Upon seeing Dave exit Sara's room, Greg made his way back there. He stood in the doorway for a moment, letting the shock of her appearance leave his features before letting her see him.

"Greggo." She breathed as he entered the room, kit in hand.

"Sara." His voice was relieved and he pulled a stool up to her bedside. "What's going on? What's new?"

She laughed smally, "Oh, you know. Just a little rest and relaxation to end the week." She glanced over at his kit, "You hear to collect?"

"I'm here to see you... and then yes, to collect evidence."

* * *

Dave stood as he saw Grissom and Detective Brass step off the elevator.

"Grissom. May I have a word?" Brass excused himself to let the two men have some privacy. "I have to head out soon to catch my flight. I just wanted to thank you for calling me. For letting me know."

Grissom nodded, "I knew it would mean a lot to her to see you."

"Please take care of her. And if you could, I'd appreciate it if you could call with an update every now and then. I know she wont. She thinks she's a burden. And I worry—I—"

"I will. To both."

Dave smiled sadly, "About her ribs and wrist..."

"I know, they're injuries from her father."

"No.. No they're actually from her mother. Well, the wrist could have been from a separate occasion but..." He lowered his voice a bit, "When she called the police that night, her mother found her hanging up the phone. The police got there just in time."

Grissom's face went pale. He had never known that part of the story.

"She stabbed her, Gil. She was in a manic episode, she didn't recognize her own daughter. The knife nicked her lower two ribs."

Grissom was speechless, horrified, stupefied. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"Anyway," Dave continued, "I'm afraid these injuries will bring back some old wounds with them. Just—keep an eye on her. Okay?"

Grissom agreed and shook his hand, thanking him again from coming. He then slowly made his way back to her room. At that time, Greg had already come and gone. As had Brass. He walked into her room to find her fast asleep. Her chest quivering with each ragged sleep-filled breath. He sat down at her bedside and rested his head on her cot. Letting his heavy eyes give in and pull him to sleep as well.


	32. Chapter 32

Only by the strong request of her doctors, Sara stayed in the hospital for two weeks to recover. Grissom was there every day day by her side despite her objections. He felt sad knowing that this was the most uninterrupted time they'd ever spent together.

The team took turns spending time with and visiting her as the days past by. As each team member would come, Grissom would sneak away to grab a quick shower, change of clothes and walk Hank. Then he'd promptly return to occupy the seat by her bedside.

Three days after the incident it was Catherine's turn to check in on her.

"How are you feeling?" Catherine took the seat Grissom just vacated.

"I'm okay. Still a bit sore." Sara was now sitting up in bed. Her shoulder still immobilized, and bandages lined the side of her face. Her ragged breathing showed that her ribs caused her a great deal of discomfort, even with the pain medication administered.

"I wanted to apologize."

Sara furrowed her brows in confusion, "Apologize? For what?"

"For what I said about Grissom and Lady Heather last week..."

Sara let out a small laugh, "You're fine, Cath. Seriously, don't worry about it."

"I would have never said any of that had I known."

"I know. Really. Don't worry about it."

Catherine smiled and softened her eyes, "You know he really blind sided us with that news."

"How did that come up?" Sara questioned. Realizing that she never really heard the story.

"It was just after Grissom found the miniature in his office, and Brass found your car abandoned in the lot... We were standing around in the layout room trying to figure out a plan of attack." She paused a moment to think, "I said something like 'this feels different' and his response was along the lines of 'it is different. This girl blames me taking away the only person she ever loved, and now she's going to do the same to me.'"

"Oh."

"Yeah. You could say we were all a bit taken aback." She smiled, "I think greg almost fainted."

"We never meant to deceive the team, you know? It just kind of happened."

"This is all very strange for us. It's hard to picture Grissom _not_ being a middle-aged lonely workaholic."

Sara laughed, "Well, I think he's still a middle-aged workaholic... just maybe not as lonely as previously suspected."

Catherine smiled, she looked over her co-worked appearance once more and the smile started to fade. She watched as Sara's chest and stomach tightened with each ragged breath, "Do you need more pain medication?"

"No, I'm fine. It's just going to take time."

Catherine nodded, "It's your ribs?"

"Yeah the bottom two broke while the car was being lowered on top of me." A quick flashback to that night left Sara feeling cold. She pulled the blanket higher.

"It's surprising that if any ribs were to break, that only the bottoms ones did. You'd think it'd be even pressure."

Sara simply shrugged in return. Then Grissom opened the door. His hair still damp from his shower.

"Hey Gil." Catherine spoke as she stood. "I'll give you two some time." She turned back to Sara, "Get well." And with that she left.

Grissom walked further into the room and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Sara's head. She smiled up to him.

"How was the interrogation?"

Sara let out a small laugh before abruptly stoping herself due to the pain, "She was fine. Really." She paused a moment, thinking about what Catherine said to her about how Grissom revealed their relationship to the team. She realized then how scared he must have been, how heart wrenching the whole ordeal was for him. Her eyes softened, "Thank you, Gil."

"What for?"

"I know this hasn't been easy for you..."

Grissom squinted his eyes, "Honey.." He kissed her hand, "I'm just grateful you're okay. Anyway, it's not me who its been hard on. It's Hank" He smiled, "It'll be nice to get home, he misses you."

* * *

Two weeks passed and it was time for Sara to finally go home. She was warned, however, that the healing is now first beginning. She wasn't out of the woods just yet.

"I don't need that." She said as a nurse pushed in a wheel chair.

"It's hospital policy."

Grissom put a comforting hand on her shoulder and led her to the chair. Her legs were a bit wobbly from laying in bed for two weeks.

Grissom keyed open the door to their loft and let her inside. An energetic Hank came trotting up the stairs to greet them, licking at Sara and wagging his tail.

"Hey boy!" She slowly crouched down to pet the dog and scratch behind his ears. Grissom meanwhile took her coat from her and hung it up.

"Shower. Dinner. Then a movie maybe?" Grissom suggested as he helped her stand back up.

"How long are you taking off for?"

"Just three more nights."

Sara nodded, agreeing to the plan for the night and his purposed length of time off. He had already taken the last two weeks off to tend to her at the hospital, only going into the lab a handful of times to help out.

Sara dipped into the warm bath water Grissom had put up for her. She watched through the half opened bathroom door from her reclined position in the tub as Grissom changed into something more comfortable. her uninjured arm swooshing the surface water back and forth.

He made his way into the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet lid beside the tub. She slid herself down underneath the water and then back up, letting water droplets roll down her face.

He squeezed some of the lemon grass scented shampoo into the palm of his hand and began to lather it through her hair.

She sighed, "I'm sorry you have to do this..." she began.

"You know I'm more that happy to." he countered, "i know how you hate to feel helpless, it's only for a little while,"

She turned her head around to him and gave him a half smile. he was so cute when he tried to be reassuring. They shared a quick, gentle kiss before he continued the task at hand.

Later that night, after they'd had dinner and washed up for the evening, he found her sitting up in bed, her hair almost dry from her earlier bath. He observed her as she sat in some odd position, her leg holding a book open so she could read and turn the page. He knew she hated to feel like the victim, to feel helpless, and to have her independence striped from her, so he tried his hardest not to make a fuss over her. But he couldn't help the feeling of wanting to, of wanting to hold her for hours, of tending to her every need.

He sat on his side of the bed beside her and reclined against the pillows into a half laying, half sitting up position.

He let her read for a few minutes more before he spoke. He lifted her hair on one side, placing it behind her ear, and doing so caused her to turn to him:

"You should get some rest dear,"

she smiled at him and nodded, closing the book she was reading and placing it on the nightstand beside her. she turned off the light and settled into bed.

The two bodies moved and shuffled until a comfortable position was found for both. He laid on his back, legs straight, as she curled her body around him, bringing one bent leg over his thighs, her arm draped over his abdomen, and her head close to his heart. His hand stroked her soft hair and he let out a deep sigh unintentionally.

Her arm traced back and forth on his stomach, "what's wrong?" she asked,

"nothing- its, ... nothing."

She sat up and leaned on her good arm, looking at him, "What is it?"

"I'm just." he paused, "I don't think I've expressed to you how glad i am that you're alright... that you're..." his voice trailed off, and he added in a whisper, "alive."


	33. Chapter 33

**October 2007**

Sara's recovery was well along its way. Grissom was had been going back to work for a few nights at this point. But he was rushing home at the end of each shift, he refused to put in overtime and he wasn't pulling doubles. In a lot of ways, the team was now short two members for the time being.

His cell phone began to buzz against his desk, the caller ID displayed "Ecklie." He sighed and silenced the phone fro the second time that night. The last thing he felt like doing right then was talking to Ecklie about his relationship with Sara, or anyone for that mater. He decided to go help Nick and Greg out in the field to avoid a drop by meeting from the lab director.

Meanwhile, Sara had just hung up the phone having spoken to Judy. She explained how Sara could not be reinstated until having her meeting with Ecklie, begrudgingly Sara agreed to come in later that night.

* * *

Sara walked through the lab halls for the first time since her abduction. She could feel the eyes on her. The sympathetic and curious eyes of her onlooking coworkers. Two taps on the door frame and she was waved in by Ecklie.

"Hey Gil—message number three. Call me back." Ecklie hung up the phone and took in Sara's appearance. "How's the arm."

"Fractured in two places."

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah." She softly smiled as she took a seat on his couch. Ecklie moved to close his office door.

"So you must know where he is."

"Actually I don't."

"Look, Sara, I don't want to do this as much as you don't... so lets just get this over with as painlessly as possible."

Ecklie now occupied the chair opposite his couch. He flipped open his folder.

"Okay then, uh—this is an administrative inquiry. You and Supervisor Gil Grissom were in direct violation of lab policy—"

"Are." She corrected him, a smug grin daring to escape thin lips.

"Are in direct violation of lab policy," he amended " Which states that members of the same forensic team may not engage in a romantic relationship... So when did you and supervisor Grissom begin your relationship?"

"Well, we've always had a relationship" She knew it was stupid to pick at particulars and beat around the bush, but in an odd way- it felt nice to see Ecklie so uncomfortable.

He paused, " I mean—When did you become... intimate?" He knew she would not make this easy.

She took a second before answering, remembering the exact moment it began, when he showed up at her doorstep looking like a mess. When he pressed her body against his own and kissed her with seven years of built up passion. When she woke up the next morning with her head on his chest, listening to his heart rhythmically beat for the first time.

"Two years ago- I think it was a Sunday." Ecklie's softening eyes bore into her, she continued, "It was after Nick was found..."

"Two years." Ecklie's surprise was written all over his face and laced in his tone. "Okay," He took a breath, "Obviously I will check and look into this deeper, but do you feel your performance reviews were... in any way, tainted if you will, by your 'relationship'?"

"No."

"Of course, I wouldn't expect any different of an answer" he noted a few things in the folder, then looked back at her, "And how... serious, would you say this relationship is?"

"Serious."

"Could you be a little clearer please?"

"How so?"

"Well—In most relationships, they have milestones, like keeping a toothbrush at your spouses home, or exchanging keys, things like that..."

"We live together."

Ecklie probably would have fallen of his chair had he not steadied himself. Clearing his throat he spoke, "Live together?" she nodded, "For how long?" his eyebrows furrowed with expression.

"Just over a year."

"And who knew, about this..."

"I think most of the lab knows by now."

"I mean before you were... abducted,"

"No one" but that was a lie. Brass knew, and even though Ecklie had no authority over him as lab director, she still did not want to bring his name into the mix.

"How did you two manage that?"

"By not telling people,"

"Didn't you want to tell everyone you were dating someone?"

"No, not really."

"mhmm." he looked down at his paper,

"Is that all?"

"For now—I suppose. If you get a hold of Gil, tell him that dodging me will only make this worse."

* * *

Greg and Nick trailed behind Grissom as they marked blood trails down a desert highway.

"Has he mentioned anything about what's going on with Sara?" Greg kept his voice down as he spoke to nick who simply shook his head in response.

"Has anyone seen her since she left the hospital?"

Nick again shook his head, "No. Have you?"

"I tried last week, but she declined my invite to come over. Said she was tired."

"Did Sara ever mention anything to you about her and Grissom?"

"Not in so many words."

"So you knew?"

"Yeah." Greg spoke as if it were obvious... but in truth he hadn't really known. He had a hunch that she was dating someone. He even had an idea that the man was work related, but he had though it was another EMT or Coroner. He hadn't suspected it be Grissom.

Nick threw up his hands in an 'I can't believe this' kind of motion. Feeling completely out of the loop.

* * *

Grissom sat behind his desk later that day to catch up on his paper work. He thought at this time of night he'd be safe from a drop by by Ecklie. He was wrong.

Ecklie walked into his office with full force, a scowl etched over his features.

"You've been dodging me it's time to talk." He spoke sternly, causing Grissom to look up. "No one wants to hear about your love life less than I do but since you didn't handle this right I have to take a formal statement."

Ecklie sat in a chair across Grissom's desk now.

"It should have been a conversation between friends," He continued, his tone softening just slightly, "I mean we could have found some way around this. Catherine could have done Sara's evaluations. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"We didn't want you to know"

"Don't most women like the world to know they're dating someone?"

"Where do you get your information about women, Conrad?" He lifted one eyebrow, almost tauntingly. Grissom also, wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"Okay, so. When did you two... you know."

Grissom took a moment to think back to the moment. When he first saw her walking toward him. Her pony tail bouncing with each step. Her pursed lipped smile. Her endless questions. The way it felt to touch her hand that evening as they parted ways.

"Nine years ago." His voice laced with nostalgia.

"You know what. You two need to get your stories straight."

Grissom furrowed his brows in confusion. "What did she say?" He wondered out loud.

"I can't tell you that. Now as far as moving forward here."

"I'd like to move to swing. I know Mike just gave his two week notice last week."

"We've already filled that position."

"Move your new hire to Grave."

"It'd be much easier to have Sara moved to swing."

Grissom shook his head. "She should be with the team."

Ecklie rolled his eyes, feeling annoyed that this conversation needed to take place at all, "Just you two figure it out and let me know." Ecklie stood and left.

* * *

Later that shift, when the cases were wrapped, Grissom drove to meet the team at the go cart place. Sara sat quietly in the passenger seat, feeling a little apprehensive about seeing the team again.

He parked the car and turned to her. "When did you tell Ecklie we got involved?"

"Two years ago." The shock on his face caused her to furrow her brows, "Why? What did you tell him?"

"Nine years ago." He spoke as if that was the only logical answer. Sara turned to face forward, laughing hard through a big grin.

"The Forensic Academy Conference?" He continued to laugh.

"Yeah." It felt good to hear her laugh again, even if it was at his expense, "You, uh, had too many questions about anthropology for some reason."

She turned back to face him, "Well I was stalling. I was trying to get the nerve to ask you to dinner." She pursed her lips.

He nodded smally, "You had a pony tail." His voice was soft as he watched her turn to face forward once more. A smile danced on her lips.

She took a long pause before speaking, "I'm going to move to swing."

"We talked about this."

"I know that you said that you'd do it, but I don't want to do that to the team. Besides, I am sure I can use a bit more daylight in my life." She smiled a toothless grin his way to convince him.

He felt sad suddenly. Realizing that things would never be the way they once were.

"We should go."

"Yeah."

He got out of the car and walked around to the other side to let her out. Helping her by guiding her good arm. They walked inside to see the team already racing with their go carts. Sara and Grissom stood by the fenced area as Nick sped up to them.

"Come on! Want to ride?"

"Wish I could." She gestured to her casted arm.

"What about you Ricky Bobby?"

"No thanks, I like to watch."

"You should go!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! You should go."

A boyish grin appeared on his face, "Okay."

She watched as he strapped on a helmet and sped of in a cart. She watched as the team did laps around each other. Laughing and smiling. But she couldn't feel it. The feeling suddenly felt very foreign to her. She felt cold and lonely and distant.


	34. Chapter 34

Sara continued to stand there and watch her team race around the track without a care.

Nick slowed his cart down, letting Catherine wiz right past him. He got out and placed his helmet in the cart, then walked around the fenced area to stand next to Sara.

"Have fun?" She smiled at him, but he could see the pain in her eyes.

"Yeah. And you will too. It just takes some time." She gave him a quizzical look to continue the facade, "C'mon Sara, you can't fool me." He placed a supportive hand on her shoulder, "I've been there. Remember?"

Oh she remembered. Thinking about nick surviving in the coffin was one of the things that helped give her the strength to free herself from under that car. Thinking about nick surviving in that coffin was also what led Grissom to her doorstop. She would be eternally conflicted with that memory.

"Having trouble sleeping?"

"Among other things."

"I wont sugar coat this for you. It wasn't easy. I don't think I slept soundly for a year. Always sleeping with one eye open kind of thing. That and the night terrors. Are you getting flashbacks?"

She nodded.

"Does Grissom know?"

"Why?"

"It's important for you to let people help you in order to make it through this, Sara. If you can't talk to him about it then talk to me—or Greg. But you've got to talk to someone. Trust me. It'll just keep gnawing at you until it consumes you."

"Thanks Nick. But I'm fine, really."

He gave a sad smile, "You don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to need help." There was a brief moment of silence before he decided to lighten the mood a bit, "So... You and Grissom."

Sara let out a small laugh, "It's weird for you guys isn't it?"

"Um.. Yeah. Kind of. When did that all happen?"

She thought about telling him the truth, that Grissom was so moved and shaken by Nick's abduction that he realized he was wasting his life. But she decided to go the simpler route. "Two years or so ago."

"You work with a group of trained observers and none of us saw that coming. Well done."

She laughed again, but abruptly stopped at the nudging pain in her ribs, "We didn't mean for it to happen like this. It started off as a secret because that was easier while we figured out what this really was, and then eventually it became easier and easier to just not tell anyone."

"I'm sure the secret made it fun." Nick winked.

Sara reflected on this for a moment. The secret of their relationship was something the two had carried around for some time now. Even before they really got together. Was this going to change their dynamic?

"Hey guys." Greg jogged over and pulled his helmet off. "You get tired of me driving circles around you?" He jabbed Nick playfully. "You know," He lowered his voice, "That girl at checkout has been eyeing you."

"Oh yeah?" Nick glanced over to see the pretty blonde behind the register and excused himself to go chat her up.

"No she wasn't." Sara looked at him questioningly.

"I know, I just wanted some time with you alone." He flashed his famous greg smile her way. "I'm not going to ask how you're doing, I already know your answer will be 'fine'."

"You know me well. But I am fine."

"I know. But I also know you have another week before the doctor and lab allow you to come back to work. And you've got to be going stir crazy being home that lone."

"I've got Hank."

"Hank?" Greg's face went into total freak out mode.

"Our dog."

Greg let out a laugh from deep within his belly, "Phew. For a second there I thought you had a kid and named it after your ex-boyfriend." The statement earned a toothy grin from his friend, "You two have a dog?"

"We do." She spoke simply. She missed this easy banter between her and her friend.

"Alright, well I'm off tomorrow. How about I swing by and you me... and hank, go do something."

"I don't know.. there's really not much I can do." She nodded again to her arm.

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"Okay." She conceded.

* * *

The next night Sara watched from the breakfast bar as Grissom got ready for work. A hot mug of lemon tea in her good hand.

"We could have really used you last night. The whole case was a mater of physics. _Could a semi tire's rubber behead a boy_?"

"It could, you figured that out without me."

"Yeah, but I bet we could have done it in half the time had you been there."

She smiled, "You don't need to butter me up."

"I'm not." Grissom bent down and put some kibble in Hank's bowl, then whistled for him to come eat. "Greg tells me he's taking you out on the town tonight."

"Out on the town? I don't know about that."

"I'm sure it'll be nice to get out of here. You've been cooped up for weeks.

"Yeah. I'm looking forward to it."

Grissom placed a quick kiss on her lips, "I've got to run." Then a knock at the door. Grissom opened the door to see Greg standing there.

"Hey.. boss."

"Hey Greg. I'm just headed out. I'll see you tomorrow night." Grissom walked passed Greg who then walked through the threshold of the loft.

"Hey." Sara walked up the stairs to greet him. A trotting Hank followed and bulldozed right into Greg. Greeting him with slobbery licks and a wagging tail.

"Hey buddy. You must be Hank."

She watched as he took in his surroundings, having never been in this loft.

"You know," Greg started as he looked at the book shelves, "I went by your apartment while you were in surgery, to get you some things so that you'd be comfortable when you woke up."

Sara bit her lip, she had completely forgotten about the extra key Greg had.

"You could only imagine my surprise when I was greeted by an Asian family!"

"I'm so sorry Greg." She laughed a little.

"You know what Grissom tells me when I got to the hospital? 'Oh, Yeah, she hasn't lived there for sometime.' And then he just walked away."

Sara laughed a little harder now, "Sounds about right." She softened her tone, "We've lived together for a little over a year now. And we moved here about 7 months ago." She didn't love to share details of her life with Grissom, it was new to even be able to talk about it, but she figured Greg would be appreciative to feel like he's in the loop again.

"What do you have there?" Sh noted a bag in his hand.

"Oh this?" He raised the bag up in gesture, "This is our fun night." He pulled out a six back of beer, popcorn and two movies. "I figured you weren't up for a full Sanders-night-on-the-town just yet."

"This is perfect."

Greg got settled on the couch and queued up the movie while Sara popped the popcorn and grabbed a bottle opener. The two resumed their usual movie-night banter as they had in years previous before their monthly movie nights became so scarce.

* * *

Greg had left a few hours ago at this point and now Sara laid in bed, alone. Waiting for Grissom to get off of work. She stared at the ceiling as she laid in the dark. She had already read most of a book to try to preoccupy her mind, but nothing was working. She took out a canister of pills from her night stand. Sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed her on her last visit. But she hadn't taken any yet. The last time she took sleeping pills was in foster care, she realized. Her night terrors were scaring the other children.

She sighed heavily and swallowed the pill dry. Soon her eyes grew heavy, and fighting back sleep was no longer worth it.

* * *

Grissom came home to find Hank wasn't laying by the front door like he normally did. He made his way back to the bedroom to see him laying diligently by Sara's side. Sara, he noted, was fast asleep. Glancing at the clock, he smiled, realizing she'd actually gone to bed at a reasonable hour.

He tip toed around the room getting read for bed before finally slipping into the sheets beside her. He inched closer to her, filling his senses with her sent. He smiled, It felt so good to have her there with him again. He curled up behind her, careful not to move her bad arm and drifted into sleep.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: My apologies for the delay in posts here. Hopefully these next few chapters make up for the wait. Also, thank you all for the kind words and reviews! Enjoy!

* * *

 **October 2007**

Sara woke and stretched away the sleepiness. The day had finally come. Her first day as a swing CSI. Grissom laid beside her, peacefully asleep. Feet touched the cold floor as she slowly and quietly made her way around the room to get ready for the day—trying not to wake Grissom who wouldn't have to wake for shift for another three hours.

 _This is how it was going to be_ , she realized. She'd wake up and leave for work before he was even up. Possibly cross paths at work briefly and come home hours before him. _What would become of their relationship?_ She suddenly had a pit in her stomach, sadness leaching in. All she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were. Before the team knew, before the miniature killer's first scene. Before everything changed forever.

* * *

"Sara! Great to have you on the team." Mike Davis, Swing Shift supervisor reached to shake her hand. "Mike Davis, new swing superior. Don't worry, no relation to Natalie." He let out a bellowed laugh, but Sara wasn't very amused.

"Anyway, I heard you did a great job mentoring Sanders over and Grave and figured you could help us train a newbie. Roni Lake, yesterday was her first day so she's already been through orientation. Take her out on the male DB in the dump." He handed Sara and assignment slip. "She should be in the locker room now.

 _Okay,_ Sara thought to herself. _Be optimistic. This is good. This will be good._ She kept trying to reassure herself. But nothing felt right. She felt lost and alone.

Roni drove the two to the scene as Sara still wasn't cleared to drive. She was looking forward to a peaceful trip, the DB was found 30 minutes from the lab, but Roni had other plans. Sara's eyes glazed over as the young girl spoke at a mile a minute and Sara quickly began to forget her optimistic mantra.

* * *

"He's been here at least 18 hours." Sara observed as Roni took care the photo taking. Snapping away and taking far more than truly necessary.

"Do you ever wonder why ants don't crawl up the nose and eat the brains? I would. Protein."

"Ants are scavengers. They tend to stay on the surface." Sara offered.

"Do you think dead skin tastes better than brains?" It was like she hadn't even heard her.

"Well they will go for brains late in decomp, after all the skin is gone." Sara smiled internally thinking of all the more technical terms and processes that she'd learned from Grissom over the years.

"Do ants have taste buds?"

"Roni—" Her patience officially wearing thin, "I'm going to have to limit you to 20 questions per case."

"Really?"

"19." She smiled a bit to seem playful, but her true feelings were coming across much harsher than she intended.

"Hey Sara!"

Sara wiped around to see Brass approaching.

"Hey, Jim!" Sara stood to greet him.

"So you enjoying the sunshine?"

"Not really." She spoke honestly.

Roni quickly introduced herself to the detective before returning to photograph the DB. Jim turned back to Sara.

"Working a double at the motel just down the street. I'll tell Grissom you say 'hi'" He smirked as and turned on his heels to head back down the alley way.

* * *

"Hey Grissom." Brass walked into the motel room where Grissom and Catherine were still processing. "Sara's at a scene just a few alley's south of here.

Grissom didn't even look up as he fingerprinted the bible. Catherine took the hint at Brass head nod and left the room. Brass walked in closer to Grissom.

"How's she doing?"

Grissom looked up at him now.

"Who?"

"Sara."

"Oh, yeah. She's doing well."

"She seems tired"

Grissom furrowed his brows. "Oh, you know. Coming off of Grave after all these years. Just takes some adjusting." Grissom's voice was optimistic without a hint of worry.

"Okay." Brass was unconvinced. He took in his friends appearance and quickly realized that perhaps Grissom couldn't see what was really going on with Sara. Perhaps he was too caught up in being happy that she's alive and safe to see what was transpiring. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. It wasn't his place. At least not here and now. He'd leave it alone, he decided.

* * *

"Sara?" Grissom walked in the door and was quickly greeted by an energetic Hank.

Sara emerged from down the hall, struggling to finish buttoning a shirt with just one hand. "Hey." She paused a moment to look a the clock, "You're home early."

"I am." He walked down the stairs and placed a gently kiss on her forehead before finishing the rest of the buttons for her. "You're getting your cast off today."

"I am." She pursed her lips, "You didn't need to come home for that.

"I know. But I wanted to." He finished with the buttons and took a step back and looked at his own watch, "We should get going so we don't miss your appointment."

Grissom and Sara had made it to the appointment on time where the doctor greeted them with good news: The cast could in fact come off that day. After she was cut out of the cast, they put a removable splint on her wrist. The old injury there making it a little slower to heel than the rest of her arm. She stretched her arm for the first time in almost two months and sighed in relief.

The doctor gave her another set of pain killers, a slightly smaller dose this time, and sent them on their way.

The car ride back was spent mostly in comfortable silence until Grissom's phone went off. He quickly checked the text as he pulled up to a red light.

"I'm home now If you'd like to video call. -mom"

Grissom quickly shut the phone and stuffed it into his pocket.

"The lab?"

"Yeah. I'll drop you back off at home and then I need to head back."

"Okay," She spoke slightly disappointed. This was the most time they'd spent together outside of work in over a week. But—if she were to be honest—they really never were able to spend much time together outside of work before the abduction either. It just didn't feel like it then.

Sara waved goodbye with her now mobile arm as Grissom drove off.

* * *

"Hi Mom" Grissom signed as Betty greeted him at the door. Her hands thrown up in excitement an surprise. She embraced him before moving back to sign.

"It's been a while."

Grissom had taken a last minute flight out to Santa Monica.

"I know, I'm sorry." He signed as he entered the house.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" His mother always got right down to business.

"I wanted to talk to you about Grandmother's ring."

Betty's heart stopped, "Gil.."

Grissom let out a boyish grin in response.

Betty disappeared upstairs for a few minutes before returning, a small box in hand.

"You remember the first time you gave this ring to a girl?"

Grissom laughed, "I do."

"Nicole, yes?"

"Nicole Daley." He confirmed.

"Second grade. I remember like it was yesterday." She smiled widely now as she looked at the delicate ring in her hand before looking back up at her son, "Sara?"

He simply nodded in return. She captured his hand in hers as she placed the ring in his hand, holding them firmly. Then mouthed, "I never thought you would marry."

He nodded again in return. Then, taking back his hands, the ring now in his own, he signed, "Neither did I." He paused a moment, "I need to make one more stop before my return flight."

* * *

Grissom walked into the San Fransisco Crime Lab for the first time in nine years. He checked in with reception to locate Dave Crow's whereabouts and was told to take a seat in the waiting area. Memories came flooding back, memories of him sitting in this very seat, hearing Sara's voice trail down the hall as she discussed a case with a co worker. Memories of seeing her again after only having met her the night before. Memories of that feeling fluttering, surfacing in his stomach at the sight of her.

He breathed deeply.

"Dr. Grissom." A surprised voice brought Grissom out of his memories.

"Mr. Crow." Grissom smiled and stood to shake the gentleman's hand.

"Come." Crow lead him down the hall to his office, the same office he had nine years ago. The same office Grissom sat in as Crow gabbed on about what a special CSI Sara was. Those conversations now making more sense in hindsight with new knowledge of their personal and professional relationship.

"This is a very unexpected visit." Crow took a seat behind his desk, "How's Sara doing?"

"That's why I'm here actually." Grissom now occupied the same seat he did nine years ago.

"Everything okay?" Worry seeping into Crow's tone.

"Yes. Actually—" Grissom paused a moment and patted the small bulge in his pocket, reminding himself of why he was there. "With Sara's father gone, and her mother more or less estranged..." His voice trailed off, trying to find the right words, wishing he'd thought more about this before showing up. "You're like a father to Sara. And I came here to let you know that, well, I plan to ask her to marry me."

Crow smiled widely, glowing, "That's wonderful." He let out a small laugh, "It's amazing isn't it? How much has changed in such as short time. Just eight years ago Sara occupied that chair to tell me she was moving to Vegas. To tell me that you were stealing her from me."

Grissom let a small smile dance on his lips, _A lot had changed._

* * *

Grissom arrived back home nearly six hours after dropping Sara off after her doctors appointment. She stirred awake feeling Grissom's weight near her.

"Hey." She said sleepily, "You pull a double."

"Yeah." He lied and kissed her neck, her ear, her shoulder. She moaned against his touched.

It had been the first time he'd intimately touched her since her abduction, having been afraid of hurting her before. But with her cast gone now...

She turned toward him and looked deep into his, the sliver of light coming through the drapes let her see his deep blue orbs. Bright with love and admiration. She took his lips in her, kissing him deeply, pushing herself further into his embrace. She could feel him moan against her.

She glided her good hand up to his face. Feeling the cleanly shaven skin below her finger pads. Rubbing her thumb against his check as she rolled over him. Her fingers intertwining in his soft curled hair.

"I've missed you." She breathed into his ear.

"I'm right here." He spoke softly in return, staring deep into her darkening eyes. But he'd known what she meant. He knew she meant this, their intimacy. Their time together. And he'd missed it too.

They moved in unison, feeling each others warmth fill them. He grabbed her, pulling her down to him hard, wrapping her in his arms, not wanting to let go. She smiled against his lips, feeling the release wash over him.

He continued to hold her there, not wanting to let go. Until finally she slid to the side, kissing him deeply again.

"I've missed you too." he finally spoke.

She laid there silently, just taking him in, his sent, his appearance, her own body's satisfaction.

"We haven't had a date night in a while." He mused.

"I know. I miss our third Saturdays of each month."

"Would you settle for every other Monday?"

Confusion filled her eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I changed around my schedule on grave... aligned our days off. So.." He paused a moment, taking in the small smile forming on her lips, "Dinner Monday?"

"I'm in." She smiled widely now.

 _Monday,_ He thought to himself, _I'll ask her Monday._


	36. Chapter 36

Grissom breathed in deeply, her sent filling his senses. He smiled and pulled her closer to him. Kissing the nook of her neck, eyes still closed.

"Good morning." She whispered, then looked past him and at the clock on the night stand, "Shoot." She quickly left his embrace and stood. His eyes were open now, watching as she quickly made her way around the room. "I'm going to be late." The shower water turned on and he could hear her get in.

Now sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "You've got an hour until shift." He called to her from the bed. A few minutes later she reemerged toweling dry her hair. "I promised Roni I'd come in early to help her practice using some of the equipment."

"How's that going?"

She pulled a shirt over her head and zipped on a pair of jeans. She shrugged, "It's okay. She's very green. But she's a bright girl. How's your bee colony coming along?" She quickly diverted the conversation.

"You should come by and see. I have it set up in the tented area behind the lab, where day shift's botany experiments are."

"Where we sat out with the dead pig that one night?" She smiled.

He smiled at the memory, "Just adjacent. I'll leave a suit for you in your locker."

Sara picked up his pants from yesterday off the floor, folded them and placed them on the bed. "I'll see you at the lab." And with that she left the room. He heard her pet Hank, and close the door behind her.

Grissom quickly reached into the pocket of the folded pants to pull out the ring. He rolled his eyes at himself for being so careless. _I'll leave it in the office for now,_ he decided. He then got up and dressed for the day.

* * *

Grissom was spending most of his free time in the lab with his bees out back. It was Sunday now, three days had past since his impromptu trip to Santa Monica and then San Fransisco. The ring was burning a whole in his desk drawer.

Sara had yet to find time to visit him and the bees. Each time she was free, she'd find he was out in the field. She just finished up processing the remains of a body found at the Rampart construction site, and passed off a good deal of what was left to Roni. She made her way to Grissom's office, but he wasn't there.

"Have you seen Grissom?" She asked as she approached Judy.

"I think he went out to the bees, left about twenty minutes ago."

"Thanks."

Sara made her way back to the lockers, grabbed the bee keeping suit that Grissom had left for her a few days prior, and made her way outside.

She could see him there through the fencing as she approached. Watching him for a moment as he carried out some routine maintenance tasks. She opened the fence door and he looked up to see her there entering.

"Oh I love it when you dress up." He teased and she laughed softly.

"Well, you know, whatever it takes to get some time with you." She spoke softly through her laugh and followed him to the bees. "How's the study going? Any sign of colony collapse disorder?"

"Nope. So far it's healthy." He sprayed the smoke into the bee's hive.

"Nothing too healthy about smoking," She jested as she cleared her throat.

"Well, the scent confuses the guard bees. They won't admit the faremone that informs the colony that there's an intruder." Grissom now opened the hive's box as a few start to fly out.

"Oh don't worry, he's harmless."

Grissom smiled.

"Who's who?"

"These are the workers, the infertile females."

"They don't sting?"

"Not unless you swat them, close one up in your hand or freak out. Go ahead, take off your gloves."

"Eh.. alright.. I trust you." She spoke through pursed lips as she slipped the glove off her good hand.

Grissom shook at the hive slate, allowing some of the bee's to fly away. Sara stuck out her hand, letting one land on her.

"See? It's cool." He watched as Sara smiled, letting the bee crawl over her long slender fingers.

"The worker bees defend the hive, procure the pollen, make the honey, deposit the larva and pupae into each of these cells." He looked up again to watch as she studied the bee intently. His heart swelled with love for this woman before him. So bright and open minded, understanding and unjudgmental. So beautiful. His eyes softened as he looked at her closer, a warm smile dancing on his lips. He couldn't wait until tomorrow night.

He looked back down at the bees and before he knew what he was saying, the words just started coming out, "You know, maybe we should get married." It came out like an after thought, like he hadn't been thinking about it at all. He couldn't look at her right away, just kept looking at the bees, afraid of what she might say, or how she might react.

Sara snapped her head up in his direction, unsure if he said what she think he did. Surprise etched over her features as she stared at him. Her mouth slightly agape. And then, he turned his head to look at her, eyes meeting.

Her heart began to race uncontrollably. _freak out._

"Ouch!" She turned her attention to her hand to watch as a bee finished stinging her. The area of her palm inflamed and swollen now. "Oh."

"Sorry." Grissom grabbed the smoke and sprayed it a few more times near the hive. Sara began to rub at it, laughing softly.

"Don't pick at it, makes it worse." She looked up at him, looking at his face, his features, watching as he took out a pocket tool and took her hand in his, "Releases venom into the blood stream. It's better to scrape it." He began to scrape at the sting mark on her hand as she looked at him in awe.

Her mind was racing, her heart still beating fast. She opened her mouth to talk but nothing would come out.

He still couldn't look at her, "So uh, what do you think.. You know, about—"

She leaned over to catch his eye, "Yes."

He looked up at her now, relief washing over him. She flashed a big grin his way, "Let's do it."

"Yeah?" His boyish grin began to form on his lips.

She let out a small, excited laugh, grinning from ear to ear as she watched his smile get bigger. He suddenly had the overwhelming urger to kiss her, he leaned in. Plastic on plastic. Their bee keeper suits awkwardly got in the way. She looked down at her hand that he was still holding. He quickly scrapped away the rest of the stinger and put a lid on the bee's colony.

They left the fenced in area and Grissom turned her to face him, slowly taking off her bee keeper helmet and netting before doing the same to his. He looked deep into her eyes and smiled before gently placing a kiss on her lips. He could feel her smile against him until she began to kiss him back. Her still gloved hand made its way to the back of his neck.

Her phone began to rang and she reluctantly pulled away from the kiss to check it.

"It's Hodges."

"Go." He nodded. "I need to finish up here."

Sara leaned back in to kiss him again before leaving. He watched as she disappeared around the corner. His whole body filled with warmth and excitement.

* * *

Sara walked back from the locker room, having disrobed form the bee suit and placing it back in her locker. She made a conscious effort to conceal her current mood. Her exuberance. She walked down the hall to find Hodges.

"Hi Sara. You look like you're having a good day."

 _Obviously not hiding it well enough_.

"Thanks." She worked to disguise her feelings further.

"Here are those results." He handed her a piece of paper.

* * *

A little later Grissom made his way back to his office. He took a seat behind his desk and quickly took out the ring that he'd stashed there a few days prior. He looked at it again as it sparkled in the dimly lit room.

"Hey!" Grissom looked up with a start at the sound of Catherine's voice, having had surprised him. He quickly shoved the ring back in his desk draw. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing." He tried to sound innocent. "Why?"

Catherine looked at the cooler on the cart and then back to him as he stood now.

"What's in the cooler?"

"Carp" She spoke as she opened it, "Paul was holding one when he died. He had a freezer full of them. Some sort of experiment."

"Huh." He moved around his desk to walk toward her, taking a better look, "I could, uh, process those fish if you'd like."

Catherine smirked knowingly, "Do I know how to turn you on or what?"

* * *

Later that night, after shift was long over, Grissom sat behind his desk once more and once more he opened the desk draw to look at the ring.

"Hey." He looked up and this time it wasn't Catherine in his doorway, it was Sara. He smiled as he quickly shoved the ring into his pocket. "I'm off tonight."

He looked at his watch to realize it was now Monday. "Me too." He smiled, remembering the other countless times they'd had this exchange before. "I'll see you at home."

"Yeah," She spoke seductively, her words lined with suggestion, "You will." Grissom arched an eyebrow as she pursed her lips and walked off. He could feel his heart beat faster.

He spent the next fifteen minutes devoted to wrapping up his paperwork to get home to her.

"Goodnight, Judy." Grissom spoke as he passed through reception.

"Goodnight, Dr. Grissom."

As he made his way to his car a feeling washed over him. He felt happier than he'd ever known possible.


	37. Chapter 37

Grissom opened the door to their loft and was immediately assaulted by the smell of a home cooked meal. He smiled to himself as he entered. Kicking off his shoes and petting a loyal Hank who'd been there laying by the door, waiting for his return.

He walked down the stairs to see Sara stirring something in a pot on the stove. She turned to see him and smiled, "Hungry?"

"Whatever you're cooking smells amazing, dear." He moved to shorten the distance between them and scooped her up in his arms. Burying his head in the crook of her neck, taking in her scent. She exhaled deeply and smiled.

"So you haven't changed your mind then?"

He pulled back to look at her, a boyish grin daring to escape thin lips, "No." He patted his pocket, checking on the ring safety nestled there. "I have something for you."

"Oh?"

He pulled out the ring, holding it his hand now as he showed her, "It was my grandmothers." he paused for a moment, trying to read her, "I know you don't like the traditional sanctions of marriage... so if you'd rather not.."

The corner of Sara's lips pulled upward as she stared deeply into his soft blue eyes, barely looking at the ring, "I love it."

"Yeah?"

She simply nodded as he slipped it onto her finger, careful to not move her wrist splint. It fit surprisingly well for not having been sized. He laced his fingers in hers now.

"I feel...over joyed."

His voice was almost monotone, but she recognized the courage he was mustering do do all of this. To put himself out there to propose, to verbally express his feelings. This was way out of his typical comfort zone. She rewarded him by leaning in and kissing him softly at first. His hands roaming to the small of her back, up her shirt to feel her warm skin below his finger pads as she deepened the kiss.

Whatever was on the stove was quickly abandoned as the two made their way to the bed room, loosing a particle of clothing with each step.

* * *

They laid together now, her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat start to slow down. Ragged breathing causing their chests to rise and fall rapidly.

And then, he felt her flinch, hard. He propped himself up to look at her but could only see the top of her head.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She managed, trying hard to mask the pain. As her ragged breathing began to subside, her still not fully healed rib raising and falling. Each breath causing a small flashback to its original injury. She closed her eyes tightly to will the thoughts away, but they kept creeping in.

 _Let me go back to three minutes ago._ She pleaded internally, _I was so happy just three minutes ago._ But as it seemed to go recently, each time happiness filled Sara—which was always a direct result of being with Grissom—it somehow was snatched away with the sadness creeping in slowly.

Since the abduction, Grissom's presence had been enough to will away the bad thoughts, the enclosing depression. But now, laying in his arms, the memories were flooding in and breaking down the walls. His presence wasn't enough anymore, they depression was suffocating her slowly.

Her breathing evened out further, returning to normal now and the stabbing feeling subsided. Letting the assaulting memories flutter away. She could feel him stroking her hair with his hand, soft and gently touches gliding up and down her spine. He kissed the top of her head. The warm happy feeling began to bubble back up to the surface. Her ring clad hand draped over his abdomen, and for the first time, she took a good look at it.

She sat up and faced him now, pulling a bit of the sheet with her as she did, "Thank you." She smiled softly and continued at the sight of his furrowed brows, "My whole life, I never truly thought this could exist." She motioned between the two, "Two people could actually love and respect each other with no ulterior motives. I don't know—I guess I'm over talking again." She smirked slightly, "But I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm overjoyed, too."

From there, the two enjoyed their night off together. They ate the dinner that Sara had prepared and took hank for a long walk around the neighborhood.

"So, my mother will be in town next week for a quick visit. She does some philanthropic work with the local deaf college."

"Gilbert College?"

He nodded, "You worked a case there once, a long time ago."

"Yes, that's when I learned you knew how to sign." She smirked.

"So, she's only in town for the day. Would you like to meet her? We can grab lunch." He was doing that thing again where the touches the fingertips of his hands together awkwardly, tentatively.

"Sure," She smiled, "That sounds nice." She paused a moment before turning to him, "Did your mother name you after that college?"

"Hu." He thought a moment himself, "I guess so."

There was a silence lingering between them as they continued to walk on, Hank yanking at his leash every now and again.

"You haven't been for a jog in a while." He mused out loud, "I'll go with you before shift if you'd like."

"Can't." She replied almost sadly.

"Can't?"

"Rib hasn't fully healed yet."

"Oh." Grissom felt ashamed to have not realized that, "I'm sorry—I—"

"No, no, you're fine." She waved it off as if it were nothing. But she felt the dull ache in her rib just thinking about it now. She though about telling him about that injury, about what really happened. She'd though about it on countless occasions, but always chickened out. _He didn't need to know_ , she'd confirm to herself, _it won't change anything if he knows. Best to just drop it._

But unbeknownst to Sara, Grissom knew. He knew of how that rib originally broke, how that small scar on her skin there really came about. How it wasn't just a birthmark like Sara had played off in the past. He knew because Crow had trusted him with that information. He had trusted Grissom to keep an eye on her, to tell him that story in hopes it would help him better help Sara. _But what had he done with that information,_ he realized. He'd been so wrapped up on the fact that she was alive, that he didn't really take the time to think about her mental state. _She seemed fine,_ he soothed himself. But then again, when did he ever really have a good idea of what Sara was thinking? He always seemed to be a step behind when it came to her feelings and thoughts. He sighed internally and looked at her. _She seemed tired._

"Why don't we turn back home, I think Hank's had enough." Grissom placed a gentle hand on the small of her back and guided them back to the loft. The approached the loft to see a department issued Denali parked out front. The two exchanged a look before entering the building and walking up the stairs to their loft to find greg standing there knocking.

"Greg?" Greg's head snapped in their direction and he quickly dropped the fist he had clenched, ready to knock on the door once more. "What are you doing here?"

"Sara." The relief in his voice made him uneasy. "You weren't answering your phone."

"I must have left it inside..."

"Is everything alright?" Grissom chimed in.

"Yeah. I just—can I come in?"

"Of course." Sara moved passed him to unlock the door as Grissom unleashed Hank. Grissom and Hank made their way downstairs. He got Hank some food and fresh water as Sara and Greg took a seat on the couch.

"I'm sorry If I interrupted anything here... I didn't mean to just barge in."

"You're fine, Greg. What's going on?"

"I found a way to get you back on Grave."

"Greg..."

"Just hear me out. Catherine does your evals, you report directly to her. Ecklie can't deny she's qualified to do that. We'll keep the team on a two man rotation so that unless it's all hands on deck for a case, you and Grissom shouldn't ever overlap."

She sighed heavily, "I miss you guys too, I do." She paused a moment, "And it means a lot that you care enough to look into this, but—" She closed her eyes briefly, "That would have been possible had we not kept it a secret from the department. That option is no longer on the table."

"You should have just told him."

"Greg—"

Greg hung his head slightly in defeat until something caught his eye. He looked back up at Sara, eyes wide and bewildered, looking back and forth from her lap to her face.

"Sara..." His voice was a mere whisper now. She furrowed her brows in confusion before realizing. _So much for that secret._ She pulled her sleeve down over her cast and fingers. "When did..."

"Today." She spoke softly.

"I don't know what to say." Greg was speechless, dumbfounded.

"No one knows right now... I think we want to keep it that way for a little bit."

"Aren't you two sick of the lies, and hiding."

"We don't really think of it like that... we're just very private." She offered, but Greg didn't really buy it. He wrapped two arms around her and softly patted her back.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks." She smiled. But he could see the sadness through her eyes.

* * *

The day came when Grissom and Sara were set to have lunch with his mother, Betty. She stopped by his office, knocking gently on the door.

"Hey." He looked up and smiled.

She signed in reply, "Ready to head out?"

"Did you just sign?"

She smiled knowingly, "I tried to learn a little... I'm not very good and really only know some key phrases."

His boyish grin pulled at his lips as he signed in reply, "I'll drive."

They drove to the college together and walked through the campus green. Students sat along the courtyard, by the trees, books in hand signing to each other. It'd been a while since Sara was on an academic campus, she suddenly realized how much she missed being a student. Her attention diverted as she saw Grissom sign "hello" out of the corner of her eye. Her head turned to see a woman just a few strides away.

"Mother, this is Sara." He signed as they approached. He placed a hand on the small of her back as she picked up her hand to sign hello. Betty didn't reach for the warm gesture of a hug, nor the cold gesture of a handshake. She smile signed hello back.

Then confusion filled Betty's eyes, she took Sara's left hand in hers and looked to Grissom as she pointed to Sara's bare ring finger.

"Oh." Sara spoke as she pulled out the necklace tucked into her shirt, the ring dangling from the chain. She turned to Grissom, "Could you sign that it's safer this way for work. So not to get dirty?"

Grissom did as he was told, but Betty's confused look didn't dissipate. _Not off to a great start._

The three walked to the restaurant just off campus and sat a small circular table. Grissom acted a good interpreter for the two as they got to know each other a bit better.

"It's so nice to finally meet you." Sara spoke, and used some limited signs to communicate, "I'm sorry I don't sign well."

Betty waved off the sentiment, offering, "It gets easier with time."

Betty then signed something a bit more quickly, too quickly for Sara to fully grasp what she ways saying. But Grissom quickly interjected, and for the first time that meal, didn't speak aloud what he was signing to his mother.

Betty continued though, and Sara made out a few quick signs: The sign for her name, 'Sara', the sign for 'mother' and 'father', the sign for 'where' and 'live' the sign for 'confused' the sign for 'children' and 'baby'. She then watched as Grissom quickly told his mother to drop it.

* * *

The car ride back to the lab was mostly silent until Sara finally spoke.

"It was nice to finally meet your mother." She smiled, "Thanks for inviting me."

Grissom shook his head, "She means well." He attempted to apologize.

She paused a moment, debating whether to ask him what she was thinking.. but finally curiosity took its hold, "Toward the beginning of the meal, what was she signing to you?"

Grissom kept his eyes on the road, fidgeting slightly, "She was asking about our future."

"Our future?"

"Um—You know. I'm an only child. She wanted to know if she should expect grandkids."

"Oh." Sara was now speechless. They had never really discussed that topic. At their age, with her childhood history, their commitment to work, she thought it was an unspoken agreement between the two.

"Do you want kids?" She turned to him, her voice shaky with hesitation.

"I don't think so." He turned to her briefly, his features soft, "I've never really given it much thought at all. Plus, at my age, with work never seeming to slow down." He paused a moment, "I'm happy with the way things are." He offered.

"Same." She spoke softly, "Did you ever want kids? When you were younger?"

"Again, I really never gave it much thought. I was always focused on school, science, work." He shrugged, "You?"

"I never wanted any." She smiled sadly, "My childhood kind of turned me off to the whole idea."

He placed a comforting hand on her knee as he pulled into the Lab garage.


	38. Chapter 38

**November 2007**

"Alright, I'm out of here." Sara spoke evenly, trying hard to mask her feelings.

Sara left the AV room where Henry, Wendy, Mandy, Greg, Ronni and herself had just watched mart of a horror movie that Wendy had acted in some time ago. She walked down the hall to the locker room. She couldn't breathe. The dark spaces of her mind slowly creeping in further and further. She needed solitude.

She sat there on the locker room bench, staring at her hands. She could feel her rib throbbing now, daring to bring memories back with a flash. She pressed two fingers to it, hoping to sooth the pain. But it only made it worse. Sadness filled her.

"What's up." Greg appeared in the doorway having left the AV room just shortly after Sara to make sure she was alright. From her apperence sitting there, he was fairly confident that she was not.

She looked up to see him there and paused briefly, "You know in the slasher movies, when the go after the dark haired girl. She always dies." Her voice was small and laced with impeding sadness.

Greg walked into the room, "Yeah. And the blonde always lives." He took a seat next to her on the bench now, "Well, aren't you glad it wasn't a movie?"

She laughed at his sentiment, but Greg knew it was forced, "I think, I'm um, sick of having my face shoved in death every day." She looked up at him again now, "The murder rate has gone up every year since I've been here. It's totally out of control, and we're not even slowing them down."

Greg nodded, a small but sad smile occupying his lips. "I like to think we're still making a difference. Regardless of what the numbers show." He paused for a moment, looking deep into her sad eyes, "We're still giving a voice to the victims. Giving closure to families."

"I don't know if that's enough for me anymore."

Greg put a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Sara," His voice was soft and compassionate, "What happened out there that night?" He paused again, watching as she stared blankly ahead at the lockers, "Everyone heals differently, and on their own time. Nick was afraid of ants for like a year after his abduction. Me? I would get a small panic attack for the first few cases I worked solo after being beat up by the swarm... But this is different for you. Something different must have happened to you out there, and I think it's important that you talk about it."

Sara just shook her head with small movements, "Nothing else happened out there—I just—I had a lot of time to think, that's all."

"What did all that thinking tell you?"

"I don't know, honestly. I'm still trying to work that out."

Greg moved his hand to wrap his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a side hug, "Whatever you need. I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Greggo." Sara tilted her head to lean on his shoulder, feeling surprisingly comfortable in his embrace.

* * *

Over the next week, Sara fought hard to push the suffocating thoughts and feelings down. She was doing a good job, too. She seemed to be fooling everyone with her 'fine' front, even Grissom. But Greg saw right through it.

"Grissom, can I talk to you?" Greg now stood in Grissom's office doorway. He looked up and waved the younger CSI in. Greg closed the door behind himself.

"What's going on Greg?" Grissom took his reading glass off and placed them on the desk in front of him. He watched as Greg tentatively took a seat.

"I wanted to talk to you about Sara... to strongly urge you too look into ways to get her back on Grave."

"Greg. We've talked about this."

"Look, I know there's this weird line here and I'm trying not to cross it. But I can't keep an eye on her when she's not on Grave. And Mike? The supervisor on Swing is a clueless idiot."

"I'm sure she appreciates your concern, Greg, but she's fine."

"No, Grissom. She's not fine." He paused a moment, trying to gather himself, "Is she talking to anyone? About what's happened?"

"That's not really her style."

"Sara is one of my closest friends. And watching what's happening to her is tearing me apart. I don't get how you can't see this."

But Grissom really couldn't see it, not to the extent by which Greg was trying to describe. Sara is one of the strongest people he knew he truly didn't think there was any cause for such alarm.

"Greg." His voice softened a bit now, "I'm keeping an eye on her, Okay?"

Greg shook his head in defeat, knowing there was not much more he could say, "Okay."

* * *

A week past. Grissom took more time to check in with Sara since his conversation with Greg, but each time Sara seamed to truly be fine. And she was, actually. Grissom's presence had a soothing calming effect on her, she felt better when he was around and therefore, there wasn't much for him to see if anything were wrong.

Grissom stirred awake to the sound of his phone going off.

"Grissom." He spoke groggily, Sara now sitting up next to him, having also woken from the sound of his phone. "I'll be there soon." Grissom swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood up.

"Lab?"

"Yeah. There's something going on with Catherine and Greg's case. I've got to get down there." He leaned in and kissed the top of her head, "You should go back to sleep." Hank trotted back from seeing Grissom walk into the bathroom and jumped into bed with Sara, resting his face on her stomach.

Just 15 minutes later Grissom was dressed and ready to head out the door. He whistled for Hank to follow him.

"I'm going to take him to the Groomer. Will you pick him up before you have to head in?"

"Sure thing." She smiled.

A few hours passed and Sara couldn't get back to sleep. Grissom's absence created a safe space for the bad thoughts to come creeping back in. She decided a hot shower might do the trick, but it didn't help much. She sighed and resigned to the fact that she had no power over it anymore.

* * *

"You know, I've learned that sometimes you can go faster by going slow."

"Well I like to go faster by going fast."

Grissom and Agent Malone from the NY FBI office stood there discussing the case at hand. Slight tension filled the air.

"You know maybe you should go back to your hotel. Take a nap."

"Is this your office? Really? By choice? It's not some sort of surplus overflow issue?"

"What's wrong with my office?"

Agent Malone looked around, brows raised high, "Uh, I don't know." He took a look at a specimen in a jar, propped up on a baker's rack, "Uh, why don't you tell me?"

"That's an irradiated fetal pig. I used it to determine the effects of radiation on tissue."

"For what?"

"For fun."

Sara made her way to Grissom's office. She smiled as she approached, seeing him standing behind his desk.

"Hey Gil, I uh—Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." She stopped at the sight of the FBI Agent now inspecting some other odd things lining Grissom's walls.

"No, no. It's fine. Jack Malone, FBI. Sara Sidle, CSI." Grissom introduced the two and Sara turned her attention to Malone now.

"Hi."

"Hello." She smiled, "I hear your abduction case is now a serial murder."

"Yeah." He spoke monotone.

Grissom's eyes softened as he looked at Sara. Her presence causing the tension in the air to dissipate.

"Well," Sara turned her attention back to Grissom, staring deeply into his blue orbs, "I got called into work early, but I did pick up Hank and take him to the sitter."

"Thank you. I'll see you when I see you." He smiled as she turned on her heels to head out.

"Is Hank your kid?" Malone spoke once Sara had left.

"Hank's my dog. She walks him for me sometimes."

"Oh yeah. That's how it starts." He walked closer to Grissom now, "I have some experience dating in the work place."

"Really?" He paused, "And, uh, how'd it work out for you?" Grissom was genuinely curious.

"Undetermined."

* * *

Sara walked into the house behind the officer. Blood trail leading to the kitchen area.

"Sara. Over here." Sara followed the officer's voice to the living room and saw the woman on the ground, bludgeoned. A blanket covering her body.

"Hi."

"Hey, I'm at a scene with a similar M.O. to your serial murder."

"Text me the address, I'll be there soon."

About twenty minutes later Doc Robbins and Grissom arrived at the scene. Sara had already begun to take photos and swab blood samples. It had been a long time since the two worked a scene together. It felt nice at first, but the moment was fleeting.

"Drivers licenses on top, like before."

"He likes to know there names." Sara looked up from her camera at Grissom.

"I heard the husband died at the hospital." Doc spoke from his kneeled position by the body. Grissom and Sara turned to face him. He continued, "But the killer was definitely here a while. According to liver temp she died a couple hours before the husband."

Sara's face lost all of its color. "So, the husband was here and alive while his wife was being raped and killed?" Her voice was small and defeated. Grissom looked at her now, and suddenly saw the pain behind her eyes. Perhaps the same pain Greg was trying to warn him about last week.

"It looks that way." Robbins replied.

Sara fought back tears as she looked down at her camera. Trying to distract herself. But it wasn't working. She walked out of the house without saying a word. Grissom quickly followed.

"Hey, Sara." His voice was soft, worry evident. She turned to face him as she walked down the driveway, "You okay?"

"I don't know." She said honestly. Her words rasp with un-fallen tears. His eyes squinted and soft, trying desperately to read her. "Do you have any idea how he selects his victims?"

"No. He picks houses with no security systems or dogs. Enters at night when most people are asleep, through open doors or windows. Easy targets."

"So. Basically at random." Water filled her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall. He nodded. "They were spending a night on the sofa. Watching a movie. It's just um—" Sara shook her head, realizing the tears were going to fall. She turned to walk away from him, "It's just wrong."

He watched as she walked off to her car. His heart constricting.


	39. Chapter 39

Grissom stood in his office alone. The folded card hanging loosely in his finger tips, tears stinging behind his eyes. Her voice in his head as her words replayed in his mind:

 _Gil,_

 _You know I love you. I feel I've loved you forever. Lately I haven't been feeling very well. Truth be told I'm tired. Out in the desert under that car that I night I realized something and I haven't been able to shake it. Since my father died, I've spend almost my entire life with ghosts. We've been like close friends, and out there in the desert in occurred to me that it was time for me to burry them. I can't do that here. I'm so sorry. No matter how hard I try to fight it off, I'm left with the feeling that I have to go. I have no idea where I'm going , but I know I have to do this. If I don't I'm afraid I'll self-destruct. And worse, you'll be there to see it happen._

 _Be safe. Know that I tried very hard to stay. Know that you are my one and only. I will miss you with every beat of my heart. Our life together is the only home I've ever really had. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love you. I always will._

 _Goodbye—_

He braced himself on the edge of his desk and cupped his face in his hands. The days events replaying like vignettes in his mind:

 _Her requesting to take the Marlon case._

 _Getting the heads up from Greg that she'd taken the sister to the interrogation room._

 _Watching as she lost her temper with the minor._

 _Confronting her one. Feeling her push him away._

 _Her promising him that she was okay._

His heart constricted. A pain so strong filled the space of his chest that he could barely breathe. He quickly reached for his phone to call her but there was no answer. He tried again.

"Hey Grissom."

"Nick? What are you doing with Sara's phone?"

"I heard it vibrating, it was in her locker. Must have forgotten it."

Grissom quickly hung up and tried her personal cell phone. Nothing. His attention was then shifted to the voices just outside his door.

"Have you seen Sara? I need her to sign off on this case." It was Ronni talking with Supervisor Mike Davis.

"I have not. I think she wrapped up the case she was working on for Grave though. She must have gone home for the night. I heard you two had issues today."

"Not issues, no." Ronni's voice was perky like always as she continued. Grissom still listening from the darkness of his office, "We were called out to a 225, domestic abuse compliant off Craig Road. We found a woman there, stabbed in the back by her Husband. The knife was still in her."

Grissom's face drained of all its color. He realized now what Greg meant about not being able to protect her if she wasn't on Grave. Since learning about Sara's past over three years ago, Grissom had made sure that she not go near a case with the slightest hint of domestic violence. But when he stopped being her supervisor, he forgot all of the ways in which he used that position to protect her.

"So what was the issue?"

"Sara said there was nothing we could do to help. That we'd be back for their bodies next month. I finished it up on my own time, helped the wife get into a shelter."

"Alright. Next time come to me first."

He listened as the two scurried off in opposite directions. Grissom quickly realized that this event must have happened prior to handing of the Marlon West case to Catherine and Sara. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard and for the first time in years, a migraine started to push its way in. He could still feel her parting kiss on his lips. He shut his eyes hard realizing that was a goodbye kiss. He touched his lips.

* * *

Grissom drove home. An inkling of hope filled his mind that she may still be there, but he knew it was unlikely. He walked in and was quickly greeted by Hank.

He moved passed Hank, "Sara?" But there was no answer. He turned back around to see Hank still sitting by the door waiting, confirming that Sara wasn't home. He sighed heavily as he dropped his briefcase to the floor and walked into the bedroom, flicking on the lights. Everything seemed in tact. But when he opened the closet, he found her suitcase was gone. He moved to open her dresser draws, half of the drawers empty, the other half still had her things in them.

He laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling his heart break a little more with each breath he took. He laid there for an hour. Just taking deep breaths, trying to will away the impending migraine. He could still smell her lavender scent lingering in the room. It was killing him.

Then his phone rang. He answered instinctively.

"Grissom."

"Gil," It was Catherine on the other end, "Where are you?"

"I'm home." He could hear the apprehension in her voice. He knew this wasn't about work.

"Can I come over?"

"Now's really not a good time."

"Do you know where she went?"

"What?"

"Davis just found a letter of resignation on his desk."

Grissom signed heavily. The whole lab must know at this point. "No. I don't know where she is."

"Gil..."

"Look, Cath—I uh, I've got to go." He hung up and pushed his phone away from him, still laying motionless on the bed. He closed his eyes again, her face filling his vision, her sad eyes. _He should have seen it._

* * *

He must have fallen asleep there, because he woke hours later to the sound of Hank whimpering. He walked toward the front to find him stilly laying there by the door, waiting for Sara.

"Come on boy." He called as he got Hank his food, but the dog wouldn't budge. Grissom opened the refrigerate to grab himself something to drink. As he closed the door his eye caught the photo of the two of them standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. He became painfully aware of the pang in his heart. _Please,_ he pleaded internally, _please let me know you're alright._

As if by divine intervention, his phone rang. Grissom looked at the screen, "Caller Unknown." He thought about not answer for a moment, but then something overtook him.

"Hello?"

"Gil." The voice on the other end was but a whisper.

"Sara?"

"It's me."

"Thank god, are you alright? Are you safe?"

"I'm safe."

"Where are you?"

"Im in San Fransisco."

"Your mother?" His voice was hesitant.

"I'm trying to. I haven't seen her in nine years..." She paused a moment before continuing, "I'm staying with Dave and his wife, Susan."

She could hear him sigh in relief.

"Good."

Sara could hear Hank whimpering in the background. "Is that Hank? Is he okay?"

Grissom swallowed hard, trying to sound strong, "He hasn't left his spot by the door since I came home yesterday."

"Oh." She knew well what that meant.

"Are you coming home?" His voice was small now, and she could hear him hurting.

"I don't know," She spoke honestly, "I need to get better before I can even think of that... and I can't do that in Vegas."

"I understand." But he didn't really. He didn't want to. He just wanted her to come home.

There was a long silence between the two. He could tell she was trying to find the right words to say, so he waited patiently.

"I said I'll miss you, and I do." His own words echoed through the phone in her voice. The same words he'd written to her in the unsent letter from his sabbatical. He shut his eyes hard, swallowing down his emotion. He knew he needed to be strong for her.

"I'll be here when you're ready."

"Thank you." She whispered. "I should go."

"Okay. I'll talk to you soon?"

"Yeah. I'll uh, I'll keep in touch." She sighed. "I love you, goodbye."

Grissom listened as the tone on the other end went dead. Before he realized what he was doing, he was dialing,

"Crow."

"Dave, it's Gr—"

"Grissom. I was expecting a call from you. She's okay."

Dave could hear Grissom sigh on the other end, "She just called."

"This is what I was afraid of happening."

"I understand that now." Grissom spoke honestly, "What's the plan here?"

"There is no plan, Grissom. She needs to heal on her own time in her own way. Susan and I are just here to help when she asks. I think Susan is going to take her to see her mother later this week. When she's ready, that is."

"Okay. Thank you for looking after her, Dave. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will. She's in good hands. Take care, Gil."

For the second time Grissom listened as the line on the other end went silent. His heart beat felt weak and slow. The pain in his chest further hindering his breathing. A deep seeded sadness washed over him as he looked around. She was everywhere, the plants on the windowsill, her throw blanket over the couch, her bathrobe still hanging in the closet, her face in photos everywhere he turned. Grissom sat down on the couch and let himself be vulnerable. He rested his face in his hands.

For the first time since he came home yesterday, Hank left his position by the front door and walked over to Grissom. Nudging his snout into Grissom's lap, resting his head there.


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: Can't believe we're on chapter 40! Crazy! Hope you're all still enjoying this story. Comments/reviews are always appreciated.

Enjoy!

* * *

Grissom walked through the halls of the lab at a diligent pace, Brass walking by his side.

"Ecklie's been on my to finish the monthly stats so I need a list from all the lab callouts as soon as you can." His speech was intense and unwavering.

"You'll have it by the end of shift tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"So you've been pulling a lot of doubles this week?" His inflection denoted a question but it was meant as more of an observation as the two turned the corner.

"Yeah. It's about all I do." Grissom glanced sideways at Brass as he spoke, continuing their purposeful stride. His eyes looked tired and voice was laced with exhaustion.

"Have you been in touch with Sara?"

"We've talked a little." Grissom spoke honestly through raised eyebrows.

"So, where's she at?"

"San Fransisco. Visiting her mother."

Brass let out a small laugh, "No no, that's nice. But I meant, where's she at emotionally. Respecting the two of you."

"I can't speak for her."

"So speak for yourself."

Grissom breathed in deeply, "I can't talk, I'm really busy." He gave a final glance toward brass before walking off, leaving him standing there in the hallway alone.

It had only been one week since Sara had left. For the first few days no one bothered him. Everyone seemed to be on the same page of not asking Grissom where she is, if they'd talked, when she'd be back, what had happened. But like clockwork, exactly one week later, that courtesy seemed to run out. One by one his colleagues would find him and ask him how he felt, how he was doing, where his head was out. He couldn't take it anymore. It was getting under his skin.

Grissom sat behind his desk and stared at the mountains of paperwork that filled his vision. At least it would distract him, he thought to himself as he opened a case file only to be interrupted mere minutes later by a tap on the frame of his doorway.

"That's it for me, boss." He looked up to see Nick standing here.

"Alright. Have a good day." Grissom went to return his attention back to the case file at hand.

"You know—" Nick started, causing Grissom to look back up, "I'm going to head to Franks and grab breakfast. I'll probably be there for an hour or so if you'd like to join. We don't need to talk about anything specific... I just don' think its good for people to be alone so much." He paused to turn before adding, "If you come, cool. If not cool."

Grissom sighed. How could he possibly use work to distract himself from Sara's situation when his colleagues wouldn't let it go themselves?

The night went on as Grissom walked the halls of the lab, It wasn't long before Catherine spotted him.

"Oh hey." She caught up to him and walked beside him, "How are you?"

"Why?" He said quickly, cold.

"I can't ask how you're doing?"

"Im sorry." He softened slightly, "I've just had a lot of, uh—" He motioned to indicate a lot of people had asked him that question already but settled on a quick shrug, "I've been busy."

"Oh. Well, maybe you should take a few days off for once in your career. I mean you've got enough stored up." She paused briefly, taking in Grissom's appearance, a faint smile forming on her lips, "Go after her."

He looked at her a bit bewildered that she would even suggest that. His tone softened as he replied, "That's not what she wants."

"And what do you want?"

"I want her to be happy." With that he left her standing the the hallway, just has he had to Brass earlier that shift. He continued to walk as he saw greg approach,

"Goodnight, Greg."

"Yeah, whatever." Greg retorted as he passed Grissom without stopping. Grissom looked back, perplexed but realized the younger CSI was already far down the hallway. He turned back to see Hodges in the break room.

"What are you doing?"

"I was uh, just trying to develop a board game." Hodges spoke tentatively as Grissom entered the room. "You get evidence, scenarios... try to solve diabolical murders."

Grissom took a once-over of the board game laying on the table. _Finally, something to preoccupy my mind._ "I like games."

"Really!?"

"Yeah." Grissom took a seat opposite hodges.

Hodges and Grissom sat together in the break room for the next two hours playing his Lab Rats game. It had been the perfect distraction just as Grissom had hoped. That is, until hodges was called away to run some trace evidence for swing. Hodges quickly left, gathering up his game in his arms and scurried out of the break room. Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose hard and closed his eyes tightly before getting up and walking back to his office, grabbing his coat, and heading home for the evening.

* * *

The next day Grissom arrived at the scene to find Warrick still not there. Greg and Catherine were crouched down next to the DB.

"Where's Warrick?"

"I've been calling him, no answer." Catherine responded honestly as Greg continued to snap photos of the DB, not acknowledging his supervisors presence.

He stood next to the garbage truck now having already given marching orders to both Catherine and Greg. He watched as Warrick rolled up to the scene. Speaking intensely on the phone.

"Hey Griss, I'm sorry I'm late. I had some business to take care of."

"This is your business." He responded quickly. "You're first up. That means you're supposed to be here first. You get to process the trash truck."

Grissom left him there to process the truck and had the body transported over to Doc Robbins so he could continue to investigate it. He sighed internally as he went through the motions. Grissom had found a way to push his sadness away, to suppress it to the point that Sara's absence didn't feel as heavy in his chest as it had just a few days prior. His days without her started to feel more normal, a fact he realized was both reassuring and terrifying. His old ways were coming back. The walls she had torn down started to rebuild, brick by brick, he reverted to his middle-aged workaholic self.

Later that day Grissom decided to stop by the impound yard to give Warrick a hand with processing the truck, figuring he'd have enough solidarity punishment for his tardiness.

"Hey Gris, about me being late—" Warrick started as he handed Grissom another newspaper to sort through.

"You have a cellphone, paid for by the department." Grissom quickly cut in, not letting Warrick continue his thought, "You call. You say you're running late." Warrick nodded in understanding, "What's going on with you?"

"I don't know." He shook his head in small, quick movements, "This, uh, this whole divorce has taken the wind out of my sails. I used to have the team to distract me from all this, but—" He paused a moment before continuing carefully, "Even that's changed with Sara being gone. I feel kind of disconnected—"

Grissom wasn't having it. Using Sara was a cope out, a way to get Grissom's sympathy and he knew it.

"You've got your work." He retorted coldly, "Don't screw that up." He was talking to Warrick externally, but the sentiment applied to himself too, he realized. They worked side by side for the next few hours, sorting the trash and processing the truck itself.

The rest of shift was a messy blur. Warrick had not taken Grissom's warning to heart and instead did just the opposite, he had screwed up his work. Grissom had gotten a call from a cadet that had seen Warrick at Pig Alley, warning him of the CSI's actions.

Grissom walked into the strip club with purposeful strides. The lights and sounds blaring through his senses as be b-lined for Warrick.

"Pay the bill and let's go." Grissom spoke sternly with a strong hand placed on his shoulder.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"You've been here twice already today. Lets go. We're leaving."

"C'mon, Griss. Why don't you sit down and have a seat with us."

"I'm on the clock." Grissom was not amused. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

"So am I."

"So you want to get fired?" The annoyance in his voice was loud and clear as Warrick stood to get eye level with him.

"No I want to let him know I'm here. I figured I'd order a couple bottles and not pay for it. See what happens."

"You think he's that stupid!?"

"Worth a try."

At this point a waitress slid the bill across the bar to Warrick. He picked the piece of paper up and squinted to look at it. Grissom shined a light on it, reading the scrawled out words, _compliments of the house._

"Well now you've got to pay for it. We can't except gifts."

Grissom took Warrick's arm and forcefully lead him out of the club, listening and Warrick drunkenly slurred about how fine the girls are in there.

"Get in the cab, Warrick." Grissom opened the cab door and shoved him inside. "Go home. Sleep it off. I'll see you in my office in the morning."

Grissom watched as the cab car peeled out of the lot with Warrick in tow. He sighed again and shook his head. He hadn't seen Warrick like this in years: headstrong, careless, reckless, not considering the consequences of his actions. Not since he had Sara come to Vegas to investigate him.

Grissom stared at the steering wheel in front of him as he thought more on that. _When Sara came to Vegas, Warrick had cleaned up his act. Was it a coincidence that in the wake of her absence he had suddenly changed gears? Had Sara been keeping Warrick in check all these years? Was Warrick's comment earlier about the team being less than whole not actually a jab at Grissom's senses, but a genuine concern about himself?_

Grissom made his way back to the lab and walked to his office, bumping into Nick as he did.

"You find Warrick?"

"Yeah. I sent him home."

Nick nodded as he followed him down the hall, "I'm worried about him."

"I'll have a chat with him tomorrow before shift. We'll get him straightened out."

"Hey, Nick." Greg approached the pair from the opposite side of the hallway, "Trace got the results back." He handed Nick the piece of paper.

"Hi Greg." Grissom spoke as the young CSI was now walking in pace with them. He was greeted with strong eye roll.

"Alright. What's your deal, Greg?"

"What are you talking about?" Greg asked coldly causing Nick to look up from the trace results report. The three had stopped walking now.

"I think he's referring to you being a jerk lately." Nick interjected.

"I have not."

"Yeah, man, you have. Not to us, but to Grissom."

"Yeah? Well maybe he deserves."

"Alright. My office. Now." The irritation in Grissom's voice shocked even Nick. He hadn't been this callus in a long time.

Greg followed Grissom back to his office, letting him close the door behind the two.

"What's going on? I have enough on my plate with Warrick right now."

"How's Sara?" Greg was short and cold, arms crossed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I warned you. I warned you time and time again. And you did absolutely nothing."

Grissom's features softened. He took a step back and leaned against the edge of his desk, looking down at his feet briefly. "I see."

"It didn't have to be this way. She won't return my calls or emails. God knows where the hell she is, if she's safe. If she's okay."

"She's safe." Grissom finally looked back up and made eye contact with Greg. He could now see the sadness and pain behind Greg's eyes, similar to the look he saw in himself when in front of a mirror.

"She's safe?"

"She is. She's in San Fransisco."

"You talk to her?"

"Briefly, but yes."

Greg slumped into the chair opposite Grissom.

"You're right, you know." Grissom finally spoke, "You warned me. As her supervisor, as her—her..." He paused not really knowing what they were anymore. Was she his girlfriend? His significant other? Was she still his fiancé? He abandoned the thought, "I should have been able to help her."

"Will she come back?"

"I don't know." He spoke honestly, "I'd like to think so, but I don't know."

"Is it because of her childhood?"

"Excuse me?" Grissom's eyes went wide, not realizing Greg knew about Sara's past.

"She doesn't know that I know."

"How _do_ you know?"

"Well..." Greg fidgeted with his hands for a moment before explaining, "Remember how DHS was sending over records of Dell's foster kids before we had Natalie's ID?"

"Yes."

"Well, on the last case request, Sara's name was on the report, and I guess who ever was sending over the reports accidentally sent her case file, not realizing her name was there was a CSI... They sent us her records by mistake."

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes, "You read it?"

"I did. Not realizing what it was at first."

"Who else saw this?"

"No one." Greg assured Grissom, "As soon as I realized what it was I hid it in my locker... not sure what to do with it."

"Will you bring it to me, please. I don't want that getting in the wrong hands."

Greg nodded compliantly. "So... is that why she left? Did Natalie do something to her? Something to bring all of that back?"

Grissom sighed heavily, "I think so." Sara hadn't explicitly told him why. She alluded to this by saying she needed to bury ghosts. The connection was easily made, but he wasn't sure to what extent Sara had endured the flashbacks of her childhood.

"I'm sorry I've been a jerk. I know you miss her too." Greg finally spoke, realizing his wrong doings.

"I'll send her your regards next time we talk."

Greg put on a sad smile before leaving Grissom's office. A little while later he returned, file in hand, and placed it on the desk in front of Grissom.

"Thank you." He spoke, looking up through glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Greg had nodded and politely left.

Grissom now held the file in his hand. He thumbed over the corners of it, debating what to do. _Would it be a breach of her privacy?_ He wondered. _Would she be upset if she knew he'd seen it?_ Finally he justified it to himself, that learning about what really happened would better help him help her.

He opened the file and the first thing he saw was a photo of Sara, clipped to the document, standing in front of a blank wall staring back at the camera with sad eyes. This was Sara's identification 'mug' shot when she was admitted to foster care, he realized. She was 13 when this photo was taken. He turned on his desk lamp to get a better look at it and smiled slightly, realizing he'd never seen a photo of her at any point of her life before she was 24 or so.

The first page of the file was Sara's childhood bio. A way for foster parents to understand what each child had been through to take them to this point, a way for them to better cater to the child's individual needs.

Sara's bio was of no surprise to Grissom. The storyline was similar to that of what he already knew. Her mother had been an undiagnosed schizophrenic, which caused numerous document domestic violence disputes over a decade long. The first one starting when Sara would have been four years old. The page ended with a list of hospitalization dates, 18 total from four years old until 13 years old. Concussion, broken wrist, broken ribs, fractured collar bone, broken jaw, populated the dotted lines.

He read on:

 _Admittance notes:_

 _At the time of being admitted as a ward of the state Sara Sidle, age 13, is coherent, understanding of her situation, and does not pose a threat to the safety of herself or other children she may board with. Sidle's physical state is temporarily compromised. A stab wound to the third rib caused a separation break resulting in further hospitalization. Upon being released, Sidle is to report to her first Foster home (home A18924, Bellos Family). Sidle's abuse resulted as a bi-product of her parent's marital spouts and was not strictly directed at her (collateral damage). Sidle has no signs of sexual abuse or trauma but may need further counseling for the long term emotional toll of the situation. Counseling is suggested but not mandatory. Sidle has no biological siblings, aunts or uncles. Both sets of grandparents are deceased. Sidle's only living relative is her mother, currently being held at a state facility to assess mental state awaiting trial. Sidle (Sara), may be asked to testify in court as a minor witness._

Grissom flipped to the next page of the report to find foster care notes. Each page dedicated to another foster care home Sara had lived in during her short three years as a ward of the state. Each page gave a brief on admittance dates, reasons for transfer and additional notes:

 _A18924 - Bellos Family Foster | Re: Sidle, Sara_

 _Admittance_ _: October, 1984  
Transfer Date: February 1985  
_ _Reason for Transfer: Unfit placement_

 _Child Notes: Sidle was brought to use as a ward of the state in October, 1984. She presented signs of indifference to her situation. Sidle only speaks when spoken to, she doesn't not play with the other children and spends all of her down time completing additional homework/studying tasks or reading. Sidle's only outward display of trauma occurs during sleep. The child suffers from severe night terrors, often waking multiple times throughout the night screaming. As a result, Sidle has become a functioning insomniac and fears sleep._

 _The Bellos Family typically sees children who present more obvious signs of trauma and cannot provide the individual care we believe Sidle needs._

 _C44196 - Perkins Family Foster | Re: Sidle, Sara_

 _Admittance_ _: February, 1985  
Transfer Date: July 1985  
_ _Reason for Transfer: Unfit placement_

 _Child Notes: Sidle was transferred to the Perkins Family Foster home in February of 1985 following unfit care with previous placement. Sidle is quiet and often isolated despite attempts by other children to engage in play. Sidle spends all free time in academic endeavors and is often kept late at school by teachers to progress her learner. The child is bright and has skipped one grade this year, advancing her to high school early. Sidle receives regular visits from the Crow family (presented as family friends of hers). This visits are the only times we have seen her speak without being spoken to. Petition for adoption was made by the family but is in review._

 _F48298 - Wells Family Foster | Re: Sidle, Sara_

 _Admittance_ _: July, 1985  
Transfer Date: October 1985  
_ _Reason for Transfer: Unfit placement_

 _Child Notes: The end of Sidle's residency in Well's foster marks one year in the system for this child. She is not seen to have progressed emotionally and refuses to visit her mother (only living relative). Sidle continues to suffer from night terrors, though the outward display of these are soothed with medication. However, Sidle often refuses to take her nightly does. The child continues to excel academically. Teachers note that she has few friends and mostly sticks to academics. The Crow family continues to fight to adopt Sidle but bureaucracy roadblocks persist. It is my professional opinion that Sidle would better thrive in the Crow home._

 _C444107-b - Goldman Family Foster | Re: Sidle, Sara_

 _Admittance_ _: October, 1985  
Transfer Date: April 1986  
_ _Reason for Transfer: Transfer to Permanent Unit_

 _Child Notes: Well's family noted similar presentations congruent with earlier reports in Sidle's behavior. The Crow family received temporary guardianship of the minor and will hold this status until Sidle's 18th birthday. Sidle is to be in care of the Crow family while continuing to receive regular visits from assigned social worker._

Grissom sighed as he finished reading the foster home reports. He had not known that Crow had been granted custody of Sara. He hadn't known how hard Crow had fought for that. It spoke volumes to his character, to his relationship with Sara. It made sense now why Crow had been in Sara's Harvard Graduation photos. Why he was there for each life event that followed. Why she was there now staying with them. While she had said that their life together was the only home she'd ever really known, he realized now that Crow's house was still a home to her. Weather she realized this or not.

His phone rang, taking him out of his thoughts.

"Grissom."

"Gil, It's Brass. We've got a situation." Brass continued on as he briefed the grave shift supervisor of the nights events. The dead girl found in Warrick's car parked at Pig Alley. Grissom quickly shoved the file into his desk draw and hurried out of the lab.


	41. Chapter 41

**April 2008**

Grissom stirred a large pot of soup on the stove through sniffles and intense coughs. He felt like absolute crap. His head fuzzy and heavy, his sinuses clogged. He hadn't felt this sick in years.

It had been a few months since Warrick's incident at Pig Alley and his subsequent suspension. He'd been back at work for a week now, making it much easier for Grissom to take a sick day. They still hadn't found a replacement for Sara since she'd originally moved to swing, and they were so short. He took a sip of the soup, but it didn't really matter. He couldn't taste anything anyway. Hank whined by his side, watching him closely.

He'd put on one of his favorite classical records to relax him but the sound of his cell phone ringing continued to interrupt. The lab, over and over again.

Grissom got on the phone with Catherine who relayed the scene to him. She walked him through the debris path, taking and emailing photos to him as she went. He did what he could to help process the scene from the comfort of his couch. The Deputy District Attorney, Maddie Klein, wasn't letting up. She wanted Grissom on this case. Walking pneumonia or not.

Later in the day a knock at his door revealed Maddie there, box of case files in hand.

"Well you look like hell." Maddie pushed past him and invited herself into the loft. "I need sugar. You got a soda?"

"Nice to see you to, Maddie." Grissom walked to the kitchen to grab her a drink and rejoined her on the couch.

"You're the only one who won't screw it up."

"My team won't screw it up."

"Oh right." Maddie rolled her eyes, "Your team. Warrick Brown, got mixed up with a crooked judge. Sanders ran down a civilian while on duty. Mrs. Willows lied about being at a crime scene—among other things. Can't forget Stokes, your straight arrow—suspected of killing his hooker girlfriend. How does it go? You call me up, I get him out of it. If it weren't for me, you'd have no team."

"Are you done?"

They spent the next 30 minutes discussing the case.

* * *

An hour or so after Maddie had left there was another knock on the door. Catherine.

He coughed profusely as he opened the door for her.

"God, you sound horrible."

"Hi Catherine," He sighed between exhausted sighs. Hank bellowed past him to see Catherine.

"Hank! Hey buddy."

"Thanks for coming," Grissom made his way back down to the kitchen with Hank following closely, "I've got to be in court in 30 minutes."

"Okay, is that Chicken soup I'm smelling?" She smiled as she took a look around. She had never been in this loft before.

"My mother's recipe" He called back to her.

"Really? Cute."

"I've got to get dressed, fill me in will you?" Grissom disappeared down the hall to the bedroom.

"Okay, Um..." Catherine put down the box of files she was holding and walked back toward the front door and the front closet as she spoke. "Greg found burnt skin on the seatbelt release." She continued to talk as she allowed herself to take a look around a bit.

A thick book of Shakespearian sonnets laid open, facedown on the couch. She flipped it over to see it was open to sonnet #44 highlighted. Speaking to long distance relationships:

 _Injurious distance should not stop my way;  
_ _For then despite of space I would be brought,_  
 _From limits far remote where thou dost stay._  
 _No matter then although my foot did stand..._

She moved on to open the closet, seeing a women's silk bathrobe hung there between his sweaters.

"Are you still talking? I can't here you?" Grissom rolled his eyes as he threw on his suit pants. He could hear as Catherine's voice trailed around the apartment, obviously looking around for herself.

"I'll-Uh, I'll speak up." She called back and she continued to look around. She closed the closet and walked down the stairs to the kitchen area. She took a look at the bookshelves. Entomology, physics and classical books lined the length and width of the walls. Photos scattered around of Hank, the CSI team, one photo of Sara and Hank together another of Grissom and Sara seemingly taken within the last year or so.

She picked up the lid of the sauce pan to let the chicken soup aromas fill the air. She now walked over to the refrigerator, a specific photo catching her eye. She took the magnet off the photo and picked it up to get a better look at it.

A very young looking Sara and Grissom stood closely together in front of the Golden Gate bridge. She flipped over the photo to see a date, but instead saw Sara's handwriting, giving Grissom her email and phone number. _Could this be when the first met?_ Grissom returned to the kitchen to see Catherine looking at the photo.

"Listen, Catherine, when you're done with your investigation, could you take Hank out for a pee? I've got to get to court." He walked up the stairs, only turning around at the sound of Catherine's voice:

"How long have you and Sara been together?"

He hesitated, "I've—uh—got to go. Thanks,"

"And to think," She called after him, "all these years, I thought you were this lonely workaholic."

He gave a half smile and conceded "That photo's from nine or ten years ago—I've really got to go." He provided as he rushed out the door leaving Catherine standing alone in his kitchen, photo still in hand. She studied it a little closer, noticing how close their bodies were to each other. Sara's handwriting on the back gave a San Fransisco number and SFCL email, telling Catherine that this photo was taken before she began working in Vegas.

She thought back now, remembering the circumstances around why Sara came to Vegas in the first place, _"She's someone I trust."_ She remembered Gil saying. _What had been going on between them right under her nose all these years that she never noticed?_ She wondered. She replaced the photo on the fridge.

Catherine walked down the hallway off the kitchen to the bedroom. Hank followed her closely. She walked in to find the bed neatly made. Female body moisturizer on the night stand next to the left side of the bed. She opened the closet to see half of the clothing there was female as well. _They lived together_ , she realized.

Catherine made her way to the master bathroom. The walls lined with pinned up butterflies. Only one frame was out of place, a bumblebee. She noticed a little note hanging behind it. Carefully she took the frame off of the hook and opened the small folded note tapped to its back.

 _Gil—_

 _This journey hasn't been easy. I'm working to get better—for myself, but also for us._ _While I may be far away, I feel you close with me. Know I miss you with each beat of my heart. I know I need to do this. I knew I needed to go, as you now know too._

 _Before I left, you asked me a question to which I responded yes. I want you to know, that I'm still in if you are. It just may be some time before we can be together again._

 _This Apis Mellifera_ _was taken from a colony that had CCD. The unique blue lining of the bee's alas suas_ _reminded me of the ring so I thought it a fitting gesture, a symbol that we will be together again._

 _I love you. Be safe._

 _Love,  
_ _Sara_

Catherine gasped audibly as she realized what Sara was saying _. Were they engaged?_ She quickly returned the note to the back of the framed bee and rehung it. A smile formed on her lips, picturing what a Grissom proposal may have looked like.

She continued to look around. Seeing lavender shampoo in the shower, a woman's razor perched on a shower shelf. She opened the medicine cabinet, finding medication with Sara's name on the label: Pain killers and sleeping aids. She closed the cabinet and walked back into the bedroom, finding hank laying on the bed now.

"Come on buddy." She clapped for him to follower her, grabbed his leash and took him out for a walk like she'd told Grissom she would.

* * *

Grissom sat alone with Maddie at the Grand Jury's table after the case was finally wrapped.

"I guess now I owe you one." She spoke deflated.

"No, I don't keep score, Madeleine."

"You know what, Gilbert. You're the only man I know that's never let me down." His eyes softened as she continued, "Which means you're either a classic enabler or my soulmate." She paused briefly, "How is Sara, anyway."

"She's okay." He spoke hesitantly. "We're okay."

"She might be your only team member that you _didn't_ wake me up in the middle of the night to get out of a sticky situation. Now _she_ was a great CSI."

"Yes, she was." He sighed.

"I worked hard to make sure Natalie Davis couldn't get out."

"I know. Thank you."

"I'm sorry this happened to you." Madeleine put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

* * *

About five hours later Grissom returned home from court. Catherine was long gone, as he'd expected her to be. He quickly changed into something more comfortable and took Hank out for another walk, making it a rather quick one considering he still felt miserable.

He walked back inside and unleashed Hank who subsequently trotted down the stairs to his water bowl. He sat down on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel the weight of his head again as the cold medication began to wear off.

The phone began to ring.

Annoyed Grissom dropped the leash onto the coffee table and picked up the phone, expecting the caller ID to show the lab. But it didn't. He smiled now and leaned back to lay on the couch as he answered.

"Hi."

"You thought I was the lab, didn't you."

He laughed now, "I did." It was so good to hear her voice. It was exactly what he needed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Still under the weather. Better now though."

She smiled against the phone, "Did you get my package?"

"I did. The wings are beautiful."

"So..." She started, not knowing how to continue her thought.

"Yes, Dear." He smiled now, "Whenever you're ready, I'll be ready." He paused ever so briefly, "How are _you."_

"I'm well. Being out here has given me a lot of clarity."

"Have you seen you mother?"

"I have. Yesterday actually. It was um... It was tough." She admitted, "She's doing well and she was lucid but—she doesn't believe that she did what she did. To my father or to me, so it's just hard. But it was good to see her again. It helped me start to let go, to forgive."

"It sounds like you've been working hard to get better."

"I have." She admitted, "I really have." She paused briefly, "I miss you though." She could hear Hank now, the sound of what she knew to be Hank jumping up on the couch or bed, "And Hank." She added through a smile. "Tell me about your day."

Grissom proceeded to tell her about the case, about Brass, Madeleine and Catherine's visit to their apartment. About Catherine snooping around.

"What did you say when she asked?" Sara questioned as Grissom told her about Catherine finding the photo of the two of them in front of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"Just what I told Ecklie. Nine years."

Sara laughed on the other end, like he knew she would. It felt so good to hear that sound again. He closed his eyes to feel her laugh vibrate through him and smiled.


	42. Chapter 42

**May 2008**

Grissom breathed in the warm air as he rode along in a golf cart through the studio lot, Brass by his side. The two were called out to LA to investigate the homicide of a stand-in actress in connection with the homicide they'd been working in Vegas. He was in a much better mood then he'd been in the previous months after Sara's departure—a fact not lost on his detective friend.

The two worked the case together closely for the next few hours until final they wrapped it up—having figured out it was the producer and co-star of the show who'd committed both murders. But a lack of physical evidence made the DA filling charges unlikely. A fact that would have put in damper in Grissom's mood for any other case, but for this one, the CSI seemed a little indifferent.

"What's up with you?" Brass asked Grissom as they rode back to LAX in a cab.

"What do you mean?"

"You seem happy."

"Oh."

"What I mean is... you would typically be upset after a case outcome like this. You're playing out of character, as these hollywooders would say."

Grissom smiled to his friend but didn't say much. The two went through security and walked through the airport to their Gate. Grissom stopped walking at Gate A7 which caused Brass to stop. He looked down at his ticket and then back up to Grissom.

"This isn't our gate, Gil. We're at B3."

"This is _my_ gate." Grissom amended.

Brass looked up at the ticker against the wall to see that the next flight out of gate A7 was to San Fransisco. His features softened and a wide smile replaced his confused features.

"Good for you buddy." Brass put a strong, supporting hand on Grissom's shoulder and patted him a few times, "Tell her I say hello, will you?"

"Of course. Have a safe flight."

With that Brass continued to walk down the airport corridor to find the Gate for his departure back to Vegas. Grissom took a seat and waited patiently for his flight to begin boarding. He couldn't tell if the pit in his stomach was nerves or excitement. It had been seven months since he'd last seen Sara, he realized. Seven months since he held her, kissed her. Seven months since he'd felt whole.

A few short hours later he stood at baggage claim and picked up his small suitcase, then b-lined for the taxi line.

"Where to?"

Grissom looked at his watch. He hadn't thought this through properly, he realized.

"The San Fransisco Crime Lab. 30970 Huntwood Ave."

The cabbie peeled out of the airport pickup lot and took Grissom to his requested destination. The trip only taking about 30 or so minutes. He exited the cab, tipped the driver an walked through the familiar double doors to the lab.

"Dr. Grissom?" The receptionist spoke. "It's nice to see you again. Are you here for Dave?"

"Hello, I am."

"You're in luck, he just got back from a scene. I'll let him know you're here."

Grissom took a seat in the waiting area that the receptionist motioned to as she picked up her phone. The same chair he sat in when he'd been there in 1999 and had seen Sara for the second time. The same chair he sat in just several months earlier waiting to talk to Dave about proposing to Sara. He felt a bit uncomfortable in its familiarity now.

"Grissom?"

He looked up to see Dave approaching and quickly stood, shaking the gentleman's hand.

"Well this is a surprise." Dave continued through a smile. "Sara didn't mention you'd be in town."

"She doesn't know." He said honestly, "I was working a scene in L.A., so I thought I'd swing by."

"An hour flight isn't _swinging by_." Crow smiled knowingly.

"Do you think she's in a good state for a surprise?" Grissom asked hopefully, knowing that Crow would be a better judge of Sara's current mental state at this time.

"Absolutely." He grinned widely and looked down at his watch, "It's about 1 p.m. now, you can probably find her at Fort Point. She goes there a few times a week around this time. I don't really get why, it's such a tourist trap, but she loves looking at the Golden Gate." He paused, "You know where that is?"

"I do." He smiled widely, knowing exactly why Sara would spend so much time there. "Thank you." Grissom shook his hand again to depart, "I'm sure I'll see you later."

Dave nodded, "Take care."

* * *

Grissom got out of the cab at Fort Point. Purposefully asking the cabbie to let him out just a little ways down the road. The park area wasn't too crowded being an afternoon on a week day, and he easily spotted her sitting atop a picnic table, a book laid open, face down beside her. Her soft brown hair blowing back as she sat indian-style, staring out at the water and bridge.

He breathed in deeply, taking in this image and committing it to memory. She had been standing close to where he stood now when she'd asked him ' _isn't it beautiful?'_ all those years ago. His response had been _breath taking._ And while the view had been spectacular, it was her he had been referring to. She was just as breath taking now.

He approached slowly, treasuring this view just a moment longer. She looked so at peace.

"Is anyone sitting here?" He spoke while still slightly behind her. He watched as she quickly whipped her head around to see him. Her eyes wide with surprise.

"Oh my god. Gil." She whispered, frozen in shock.

"I was in the area..."

She finally regained her mobility and leapt to her feat, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He closed his eyes, feeling her warm body press against his, her soft locks curling against his cheek, her scent filling his core.

She leaned back in his embrace to look into his eyes, deep blue and soft. He smiled at her and gently kissed her lips.

"Hello, dear."

"Hi." She breathed through a sidle-famous grin. "What are you doing here?" Happy surprise laced her voice.

"I was working a homicide in L.A."

"L.A. is not down the street." She smiled teasingly.

"I needed to see you." He paused, hesitating, "I hope it's okay..."

"This is a wonderful surprise, Gil." She kissed him again, a little deeper now, "I've missed you." The two sat down on the picnic table together now. Grissom wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulders and she easily leaned her head against him. She was always amazed at how natural it felt to be with him.

They talked for a bit about where she is emotionally, a few interesting cases the team had worked in her absence, what she had been doing to fill her time. He learned that she'd been helping an old physics professor of hers from Berkley with some research and experiments as well as volunteering her time at different charities across the city.

They spent the rest of the daylight walking through the national park, through the city. Enjoying the time they had together.

"How long can you stay?" She finally asked. She had wanted to earlier in the day, but she was afraid the answer may upset her.

"For two days, if you'll have me."

She smiled widely, "Of course." She thought a moment, "Does Dave know you're here?"

"That's how I found you." He teased, "Though he didn't know I was coming." As if like clockwork Sara's phone began to ring, the caller ID showed Dave Crow. She answered,

"Hi Dave."

"Did you get your surprise?"

"I did." She laughed softly. "Thank you."

"I let Susan know he's in town. She'd like to have him over for dinner if that's okay with you two."

Sara quickly glanced at Grissom, "That sounds wonderful. We'll see you then."

* * *

Later that night, Sara took Grissom to the Crow's house and introduced him to Susan and Harry who was back from Harvard on summer break. They enjoyed Susan's home cooked meal as they kept the conversation light. Grissom learned more about The Crow family and watched as Sara easily interacted with them. She was so at ease here, so comfortable. He watched as she and Harry playful exchanged some sibling-like charged fire at each other, teasingly.

"So what are you studying at Harvard?" Grissom turned his attention to Harry who was spooning another helping of mashed potatoes to his plate.

"Biophysics."

"For now." Dave chimed in and playful jabbed Harrys arm. "He entered as a chem major before switching to bio and then biophysics. What's next Har, physics?"

"I think I'll stick to Biophysics for now, best of both worlds." He smiled.

"Think you'll follow in your dad's footsteps and join a crime lab?"

"No way." He paused briefly, "No offense, guys."

"None taken," Grissom, Sara and Dave said almost simultaneously.

"I think i'll stick to the field research side."

Grissom nodded, impressed with the boy's intelligence. The conversation continued on an and the five of them had spent hours talking, getting to know Grissom better. Eventually the night winded down and stifling a yawn, Grissom suggested he best be going.

"Where are you staying?" Crow asked as he walked Grissom to the door.

"The Marriot, not too far from here."

Sara returned from upstairs with a quickly packed, small overnight bag. She kissed Crow on the check and waved goodbye to Susan, "I'll see you tomorrow. I need to stop by the lab."

"Sounds good. Have a good night." He smiled at the two as they left, watching as Grissom placed his hand at the small of her back and leaned in to kiss the top of her head softly.

* * *

Sara walked into the hotel room and dropped her overnight bag to the floor. Grissom entered after her, closing the door behind them. Within less than a countable moment, he had her in his arms and kissed her deeply, passionately. Seven months of built of sexual tension, of missing her, of needing her. Hands roaming, she lifted his shirt up over his head, only breaking the kiss to pull it over his face and leave it in a heap on the floor.

Grissom lifted her and brought her to the bed, laying her down gently as he worked her shirt off now, exposing milky white skin and lace clad breasts. Her engagement ring hanging from a long necklace chain, resting in the valley of her breasts. He continued to kiss her deeply, passionately. He could feel her moan against his lips as he pressed his own body to hers. Heat emanating from his core, the weight of his arousal evident. She worked quickly to unhinge his belt, unbutton and unzip his jeans before pushing them off him.

He stared deep into her eyes as he entered, watching her brown orbs turn near black with intensity and wanting as she sucked in a sharp breath. He watched her mouth go agape, arching her back to him further. Her hand were in his hair now, tangling their way through his short curls, roaming to his back, hanging onto him tightly.

"Gil." She breathed into his ear as they moved together. He kissed her lips, her cheek, her ear, her neck. Trailing along to her collar bone. Her moan deepening and growing husky.

He looked deep into her eyes now, foreheads mere centimeters apart. He placed a hand on the side of her face, pushing her hair back, holding her there as they moved together.

"Sara." His voice was a soft whisper as she looked into his eyes again, feeling he was on the verge. "I love you." the words danced off his tongue and kissed her ear causing her to shutter slightly. She could feel a moan rumble from deep within his through as the movement stopped. They held each other tightly, as if the moment would end should they let go.


	43. Chapter 43

Grissom sat behind his desk replaying the previous few days in his mind. He smiled as her face populated his mind's eye. His heart ached, but it was different from before. It was hopeful. He could already see how much better she was in just a short time. He was confident that she could over come this, that she could come back to him soon.

But weeks turned into months and Grissom was getting frustrated. Each time he suggested she'd come back just to visit, she would say that she wasn't ready or she couldn't. They continued to talk regularly, but he felt lonelier each day. He just wanted her back.

* * *

 **October 2008**

"Sara!" Greg exclaimed as she walked into the coffee shop.

"Greggo!" She smiled back and embraced him in a hug. "It is so good to see you." She took a seat opposite him and ordered a large cup of coffee. "I was surprised to get your call." She admitted once they were settled down.

"You know that book I was working on? About Las Vegas' history?"

"Yep."

"Well I've been shopping it around to some studio heads. I was in L.A. for the past two days."

"Any bites?"

"A few prospects." Greg glowed.

"So what are you doing in San Fransisco then?"

"Figured I swing by, see the scenes. I've never been out this way."

"Mhmm." Sara said doubting Greg's response.

"Alright, I figured if I was already here, you couldn't turn me down to meet up." He flashed her his greg-grin. "You look well, Sara."

"I feel well." She smiled back. The two shared an easy afternoon together and caught up. Eventually though, Greg had to return to the airport to catch his flight. He gave Sara a big hug and made her promise to keep in touch before he got in a cab and departed the city.

* * *

"Oh, God." Grissom pulled Warrick's limp and bloodied body out of his car and into the alley way. Blood spewing out from his neck as Warrick gasped for air. He quickly took his jacket off and pressed it against the wound. _How did this happen?_ Just minutes earlier the team was grabbing breakfast together at Franks, celebrating Warrick's innocence. Grissom departed the diner first and stopped by a nearby news stand remembering Sara had told him to check out an article on Costa Rica butterflies she had seen in this month's Nation Geographic.

He was flipping through the magazine to find the article when he heard his police scanner from the car, "Officer Down." He looked at the cross streets. It was right by him. And that's when he found Warrick.

His green eyes looking up at him, terrified. Blood gurgling in his throat. Grissom looked up to see the Under Sheriff walking toward him.

"Where are the paramedics!?" Grissom shouted, "Get the paramedics!"

Warrick continued to squirm in Grissom's hold. "Hang in there Warrick. Stay with me." But blood was everywhere and Grissom couldn't stop it. He felt Warrick stop squirming, felt his body go limp. Grissom scooped him in his arms and held him tightly, tears trickling from his blue eyes. "No, Warrick!" He yelled internally as he held him tighter.

By the time the paramedics arrived Warrick had passed. The sun was peaking up over the horizon now casting eerie blue light over the scene. Grissom sat against the brick wall opposite Warricks sheet covered body. He was drenched from head to toe in Warrick's blood, his face drooped in deep sadness.

"Have you photographed the body yet?" Ecklie asked as he approached them.

"I haven't done anything yet." Dave responded smally.

Grissom looked up and stood for the first time as Ecklie spoke again, "Gil, how do you want to handle this?"

"I want us to do this, Conrad."

Catherine approached the two men, "I just got off the phone with Greg. He's on his way back from the airport. I told him to go straight to the lab."

* * *

Sara's phone rang as she stepped out of the shower. She glanced at the caller ID and smiled.

"How can you miss me already? I just saw you a few hours ago."

"Sara..." His voice was small and shaky.

"Greg? What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Warrick... He's—" She could hear his voice cracking as he tried to manage words, "He's gone, Sara."

"What do you mean, _he's gone?"_

"He's been shot. He died, Sara." She could hear him push down tears.

"Where are you?"

"I just landed in Vegas and got Catherine's call..."

"I'm taking the next flight out."

Sara quickly got on her computer, booked the next ticket out of San Fransisco and got changed. She stuffed a small suitcase hastily and ran downstairs to print her boarding pass.

"Whoa, girl. Where's the fire." Harry teased as he bit into an apple. She didn't respond, barely hearing him as she rushed around to leave the house. "Sara?" Harry softened, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Dave stepped into the room hearing the commotion, "What's going on?"

"It's Warrick—my Vegas CSI colleague, he's..." She paused, not sure if she could manage to say it aloud. "He's been shot... he didn't make it." Tears welled behind her eyes as she spoke the words aloud. "I just booked a flight, it takes of in less than an hour."

"I'll drive you." Dave grabbed his car keys and Sara's bag and headed outside quickly.

* * *

Grissom walked through the lab halls, Warrick's blood still caked on his face, his hands, his shirt and pants. Eyes upon him as he walked through. He watched as colleagues came together, consoling one another as they cried.

He turned the corner to see Greg walking toward him, face somber and heavy like the weight of the lab. They made eye contact.

"I, uh—I need to do something." His voice was small and cracking. Eyes red with tears.

"You could, um, pick up Warrick's clothes from the coroner."

"Okay." Greg nodded and moved on as Grissom continued is slow walk to Hodges' lab.

Hodges helped place Grissom's bloodied clothing into paper evidence bags. Watching as the supervisor was forced to strip down.

"Here." Hodges spoke softly, extending fresh clothes to Grissom. "Black shirt, medium. And your department windbreaker."

"Thank you." Grissom voice continued to be soft and monotone. He couldn't process his thoughts, his feelings. He felt lost and cold.

Grissom left Hodges' lab and walked down the hall back to his office. He stopped abruptly in the threshold. There she stood, leaning against his desk, waiting for his return. Her face soft and sad. She pushed off the desk and took a step toward him. His feet moved just the same, slowly taking him to her. Their eyes locking before finally embracing in a hug. He could feel her crying against him now.

"I got the first flight out." She sighed as she held onto him tighter. He closed his eyes, letting the feeling of her against him comfort him.

"Thank you." He finally spoke, his voice so small and almost inaudible as he tightened his hold of her.

They finally let go of each other and took a seat by his desk. She held his hands in hers, seeing blood still caked around his fingertips, embedded in his nail beds.

"How?" He spoke softly.

"Greg called." She smiled sadly and nodded.

"He didn't want to go, Sara." he spoke a bit absently.

"Tell me."

"I was holding him." He looked back at her now, "God, I could feel his life. I guess I felt that if I could hold him tight enough, that he would be okay."

"You know there is no where in the world that he would have rather been in the end." She paused to push back some tears that threatened to fall, "He loved you."

"Yeah... I loved him." He whispered.

Sara's attention turned to the door as she was Catherine approach. She sighed when she saw Sara.

"I'm so sorry." Sara moved to hug Catherine, and saw Greg entering the office behind her.

"It's so good we can all be together."

She moved to hug Greg now. He hung on tightly, realizing that the hug they shared just a few hours prior was a happy one, a complete contrast. "I'm so glad you're here."

She moved to Nick and hugged him as well as he entered the office.

"Look, um, maybe I can pick up some of the slack. I—I know I can't work the case but, maybe I can make some of the arrangements?"

"That would be great." Grissom nodded.

"I'll help you" Greg chimed in.

* * *

Greg and Sara drove to Warrick's apartment in near silence. The air between them think with unspoken sadness.

"When did he move?" Sara asked as they pulled up to the apartment complex.

"When he and Tina split up."

"Oh." Sara realized that happened just after she was abducted. The thought on that for a moment, realizing that the two had gotten married after Nick's abduction. Nick's abduction story was one of hope and survival. Of not taken life for granted. That's why she and Grissom had finally gotten together, why Warrick and Tina tied the knot. Sara's abduction had been the opposite.

They entered the apartment together.

"Looks like never settled in." Greg observed as he walked past half opened packing boxes.

"Yeah."

Greg and Sara found a suit and tie for Warrick's funeral, along with the surprising discovery that Warrick was a father, and was fighting a custody battle with Tina. Greg and Sara watched court psych tape, where Warrick described the father figure in his life. "Fair and honest. Someone who's taught me how to be inspired and to inspire others."

"Sara... He's talking about Grissom."

She nodded slowly, "I know."

Later on Sara would show Grissom the tape in efforts to cheer him up a little. And it had, without realizing it, Grissom had been like a father to Warrick.

"And you thought you wouldn't be any good as a father." Sara teased, trying her best to lighten the mood.

"I could say the same to you." He rebuttaled.

"What does that mean?"

"I saw the way you are with Harry." Grissom smiled and reached for Sara's hand, kissing it. "Thank you for sharing this with me."

* * *

Grissom stood in front of the packed church. His colleagues sitting in pews, sniffling back tears. His eyes drew to Sara who sat in the front row along side Catherine, Nick and Greg.

"As Crime Scene Investigators, we meet people on the worst days of their lives. We meet a family member, who just lost someone they love. Often in a horrible way. A piece of their heart is gone, and will never be replaced. The phrase we're trained to offer them, 'I'm sorry for your loss', as we know now doesn't offer much. Warrick Brown was a young boy when his parents passed away. Much too young to learn that life can be cut so tragically short. But I think it taught him, how precious life is. And so he lived his life to the fullest. Each day as if it were his last day.

I was with Warrick on his last day. All the qualities that define him, his tenaciousness, his deep sense of loyalty, his courage to risk his life for what he knew was right. All those traits were with him on his last day. Just before he died, we were all having breakfast together. Our team, his friends, his family. And Warrick was—"

Grissom began to choke on the tears he was so desperately trying to push back, "He was—" He couldn't hold them in any longer, they came streaming down, "I'm going to miss him so much."

Sara watched Grissom closely has he began to shake, the tears streaming from her own eyes in seeing his pain. He made his way back to the pew, sitting beside Sara. She quickly grabbed his hand i hers and held tightly. Her other hand went to his back, rubbing small circles to comfort him.

After the funeral, Catherine spotted Tina in the back, holding onto a baby boy. She approached her.

"Tina..."

Tina smiled sadly.

"Is this Warrick's son?"

She nodded in return and readjusted in infant against her.

"May I hold him?"

Tina shook her head, a tear escaping her eye, "No," She managed, "I don't think that's a good idea." She turned to leave the funeral, strapping her son into a carseat. But before she did, the team caught a look at the baby and his piercing green eyes.

* * *

Later that night the team meet up at Grissom and Sara's loft. They sat around, drinks in hand and talked through found memories of Warrick, allowing themselves to laugh a little.

"You know," Catherine interjected as Sara finished up a story of how wary Warrick was of her originally as the team laughed, "You two probably would have never gotten together if it wasn't for Warrick's bad apple streak." She gestured between the Grissom and Sara.

"What are you talking about Cath?" Grissom furrowed his brows.

"If Warrick hasn't messed up, you would have never needed to call in that favor to have Sara act as IA. How many hoops did you have to jump through to get Sara to be the one who came to investigate him? Hu?" She smirked knowingly at Grissom while glancing as Sara's slightly shocked face.

"Alright, alright. It wasn't that many hoops."

"Gil." Sara said almost scoldingly with a slight laugh as she glanced at him, "You know, I never thought about that. The department probably just wanted you to put someone from days or swing on it."

"He shrugged. It was as good a reason as any."

The team laughed in unison together as Catherine continued to poke fun at the two.

"Remember there was that one time I swore Warrick knew." Sara laughed, directing the statement to Grissom, "You brought me dinner at the lab when Warrick and I were working late on a case and he questioned why you didn't pick up anything for him as well." She shook her head, "You said you didn't know he was working but when you left Warrick went on for a good five minutes on the fact that you personally called him in just an hour before. I ended up having to split my veggie burger with him just to shut him up."

The team continued to share stories of Warrick, some somber, some happy. Grissom sat back quietly listening, observing, seeing his team together. Seeing sara laugh with everyone again. He wanted to bottle this moment, to keep it forever. But eventually everyone filtered out leaving just Grissom and Sara together. He sighed sadly, the memory of Warrick's last breath flushing through him.

"C'mon." Sara stood and reached out her hand, "Let's go to bed."


	44. Chapter 44

Grissom laid on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His world felt small, heavy. Even Sara's presence wasn't soothing him. His phone rang again, the fourth time in half an hour.

Sara pushed herself up, leaning on her arm to look over him and to the phone that laid on the light stand.

"It's the lab again." He voice was quiet as it continued to ring through, "Do you want to get it?"

"No." He answered simply, continuing to look absently at the ceiling.

She took his hand in hers, "Maybe we should go away for a while."

"I can't. We're so short." At the time, she didn't take this as a jab at her, but deep down it was. First the team lost Sara, now Warrick. If he were to leave too, which is what she'd ben suggesting for months, they'd loose their supervisor. That's three people in a six person team. The idea was selfish, he justified.

He turned his head to her, watching as she laced her fingers through his own. "Why don't you stay?" His voice hinted at a plea.

"I can't stay here." Sadness laced her tone as she looked back at him, her eyes apologizing. Sara laid down again, resting her head on the spot between his chest and shoulder where she could feel his heart beat against her ear. "It'd be nice to take a trip," She tried again, "I don't know, get on a Sea Shepard, go to the Galapagos. We could literally walk in the footsteps of Darwin."

She rubbed small circles on his chest as he lifted his hand to cover hers. His face biting back sadness. They laid there for a while, her head lifting up and down with each breath he took.

His heart constricted with deep rooted sadness. It was at that moment he realized that she wasn't coming back to him. That whatever _this_ was, was all it could be. He couldn't leave the lab, and she couldn't come back. They were at a stalemate and neither of them seemed ready or able to compromise.

Her presence began to hurt more than it helped. For while having her with him felt good and comforting, he knew it was fleeting. And the idea of feeling that pain again, the pain he felt after reading her goodbye letter, the pain he felt for the months that followed until they finally saw eachother again, that pain had been crippling. He wasn't sure he could handle its certain return.

The phone rang again and Grissom sat up with a sigh. He needed to get away from her for now. He took the call.

"Grissom."

"Hey Grissom." Spoke a tired Ecklie on the other end. "I know you're grieving, but grave is too short for you to be hiding out. Your team is running thin."

"I know. I'll be in soon."

"You've got a case. I'm texting you the address."

Grissom hung up and stood up, leaving Sara alone sitting up now in the bed. He walked to the closet without a word and changed for work.

* * *

"Hey Greg." Sara answered the phone seeing Greg's name appear on the caller ID. Grissom had left for work nearly three hours ago at this point and she had busied herself by taking Hank out for a run and tidying up the place a bit.

"When's the last time you spoke to Tom?" He paused, "Tom and Pam." Greg had known Sara had been overly involved in this case. He knew that she'd visit Tom and Pam a few times a month every month since the case closed years prior. He knew she'd know exactly what she was talking about.

"Not since I left Vegas."

Greg proceeded to tell her the case details, that he had held the scene for her. Sara quickly left the apartment and made her way to the long term care facility.

"Thanks, Greg." She smiled sadly as she walked past him and the detective to enter the room. There she saw Tom, sitting next to Pam's even more lifeless body.

"Tom."

"Sara." His voice was surprised, but he didn't take his eyes off of his late wife. "I thought you were away."

"I know how much you loved her... Tom look, I'm no longer a CSI, but I'll go with you. I won't leave you."

* * *

Sara sat opposite Grissom at his desk now as he reviewed Pam Adler's case file.

"There's no trace of him, on her or in her." She rolled her eyes, "And doc Robbins found no sign of sexual assault."

"Yeah but we don't know when that happened. And we both know that seaman deteriorates within 12 to 24 hours."

"Sara," He looked up at her now and laced his fingers together, "You have to consider the possibility that the husband made up the story to justify his actions."

"No." She spoke sternly, "Absolutely not."

"I'm not saying he didn't love her. I think he loved her so much that he kept her alive for eight years. You're still a scientist. You know that after that many years of atrophy that she wasn't coming back to him. I mean..." He paused, swallowing hard before continuing, "Sooner or later a relationship in stasis withers. You get angry. You need more than the safety of knowing you're not alone." His voice stayed soft.

"Then he should have just walked away." She was angry and it was written all over her tone.

"Well maybe he couldn't. Maybe he needed her to leave him."

There was a heavy silence in the room as their eyes locked. "Who are we talking about right now?"

He looked down ashamed briefly before looking back up at her. He stayed silent, not knowing what to say. He could see the anger and hurt behind her eyes.

"If you need me to walk away. I will." Anger was fueling her words, not truth.

"You already have, Sara." His voice was a contrasted soft and sad tone juxtaposing her harsh one.

"I'm here now."

"Having your inevitable departure hanging over my head is worse than having you here." His words were surprisingly uncryptic and very out of character.

Her lip began to quiver and she pushed back her emotions, "I'll take a flight out tonight." She pushed to her feet and went to leave.

"Sara." He called out after her but she didn't turn back around.

* * *

Sara now sat across from Tom in an interrogation room. She was sad and angry. Sad that Tom had lied, that he did what he did. Angry that Grissom had been right.

"Why'd you lie to me, Tom?"

"I can't win for losing. People told me I was selfish keeping her alive for so long. And now look at me. After a while I realized the only one who was feeling any suffering was me."

"You could have asked the doctors to help you."

"And say what? That I as tired. I wanted to kill my wife so that I could have a weekend to myself."

"At least that would have been honest."

Sara left the interrogation room, head hung low.

"I'm sorry, Sara." Greg's voice came closer as she looked up to see him there.

"Look, Greg." She smiled sadly at her friend, "I'm um—I'm going to head out now." She looked at her watch briefly before looking back at him, "Will you tell Nick and Catherine I say goodbye."

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"I'm flying back to San Fransisco."

"I see." Greg's sadness leached from his tone to his face.

"I'm not ready to be here." She confided, "I'm afraid I'm undoing all the work I've done to get better. So—It's best I go." She patted Greg on the shoulder before walking past him and out of the lab. Greg just watched helplessly as she walked away.

* * *

Sara stood in their bedroom, slinging her pack over her shoulder. She took a look around sadly. A single tear fell from her eye as she looked at a photo of the two of them with Hank. _They looked so happy._ She quickly shook her head and left before she would change her mind.

Sara sat on the plane and looked out the window, seeing the lights of Vegas flicker and fade as the plane moved further and further away. As they did, she became determined. She decided she would take that trip. Take a Sea Shepard and assist other scientists in field research, explore and travel. Whether he'd come or not.

* * *

Grissom sat opposite the 18 year old boy and watched as he cried through his confession.

"Have you ever loved someone so much, that you'd kill for them!?" Grissom's eyebrows raised, _he had almost killed Natalie in the interrogation room when they were looking for Sara._ The sheer thought of that made him cold suddenly.

"I do." The boy continued, "And even if Lexi can't be with me, she's better off without her." He paused, tears swelling in his eyes, "She promised me everything! And then she took it all away." The boy sobbed through his words and Grissom sat there and watched. The boy's words echoed through him, _Sara had promised him everything, and then she took it all away._

He could feel his body go numb. _What had he done?_

He walked through the halls, feeling his world get smaller and smaller. "Where's Sara?" He heard Catherine in the distance. "She left." Greg replied. There was no avoiding them, they were standing in front of his office. Grissom walked past them and entered his office, taking a seat behind his desk. Catherine followed him in.

"Do you know where Sara is?"

"Didn't Greg just say she left?" Grissom asked annoyed.

"What do you mean she left? I though she was back."

"Well now she's not. Look—I've got a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so if there's nothing else..." Grissom motioned for her to leave.

* * *

The next week the team assembled in the break room, all exhausted from pulling multiple double and triple shifts in a row. They listened as a Grief counselor introduced herself. Explaining the processes of grieving for a co-worker and friend. How you may feel fine and grief can hit you out of no where. But Grissom knew he didn't feel fine. He missed his friend, his student.

Warrick was ripped from them too soon, and his absence was hard to swallow. But more than that, he was angry that he was grieving alone. Feeling that Sara should have done more to stay. That despairing sadness that he'd felt the first time she'd left was back, and this time it hurt worse.

He now stood in Hodges' lab, performing a routine test as Hodges walked in:

"Are you preforming a Head-space S.A?"

"Yes. Which I believe is your job."

"I was just uh, no where. You want me to finish up?"

"I'm almost done." Grissom continued to mix the chemicals.

"Um, hold on a second."

"What?" Grissom looked up, annoyed.

"You added the liverating agent."

"Yes."

"Then the solfuric... you skipped over the Sodium-Diathinoid?"

"Yes, I think I did." Grissom's voice softened as realization washed over him, "I think I must have done it with all of these."

"It would be best to redo the whole S.A. Look, I can get it." Hodges grabbed his lab coat and slipped it on, "Should have been doing it to begin with. Don't worry about it. I know it's been a long day."

"Everyday is a long day." Grissom responded sadly.

* * *

Grissom walked into the break room seeing Patricia, the psychiatrist, sitting there. He walked past her.

"Looking for me?" She spoke as she watched him poor hot water into his cup.

"No, just getting more tea."

"I think we should talk."

"I'm very busy right now"

"I know you've got a lot going on right now, but I think it will do you good. When you get time, I'm here."

"Thank you." Grissom turned around to face her, "Look, this may be a little out of your area of expertise, but lately I've been having some problems with Hank—"

"Grissom!" Hodges rushed in to tell him the results of the tests, "Carbon Monoxide."

"I've got to go." Grissom spoke to Patricia before bolting out of the break room and down to see Greg.

* * *

Later on he sat behind his desk, Greg having just filled him in on the killer's "artful" techniques. He watched as Greg turned on his heels to exit, passing and nodding to Patricia as she entered Grissom's office.

"Dr. Grissom. I was wondering if I might have a word with you."

"Yes of course. Come in." Grissom gestured to the seat opposite his desk. She did not sit.

"I wonder why you hold what I do in such obvious contempt."

He furrowed his brows, not sure what she was getting at. "Excuse me?"

"The last time we spoke, you mentioned that you were having some problems with Hank. Now, out of concern for you and because I take my job very seriously, I started asking around. And was met by a mixture of bafflement and smirks. By most of your staff until David Hodges took pity on me and informed me that Hank, was your dog."

"I apologize. It was a serious question."

"Oh really?"

"For the last few weeks my dog's been... listless. Barely eats. And I just wondered, if you thought it was possible, that pets could take on the emotions of their owners." Grissom shrugged sadly.

"Well." Patricia softened and moved to sit in the chair opposite him now, "Companion animals were bread to respond to human beings. At some level, I do believe that they resonate with what their owners are feeling. So what are you feeling?"

"I've just been... a little distracted lately. I'm having a hard time focusing on the details."

"That's normal."

"Not for me." "I wondered if you knew... typically, how long this lasts."

"There's no typical. Days, weeks, sometimes years. The important thing is to acknowledge it. But you do have to talk about it. And if not with me, then with somebody else. And soon." _Who?_ He mused, _Sara? Sara who was absent, fleeing when it got too hard? Sara, who was a main reason why he was so sad._ He sighed internally, he hated how upset he was with her when he knew he truly couldn't blame her.

Grissom smiled sadly as his phone rang, cutting their conversation short.

* * *

 **October 2008**

Grissom and Catherine stood over the body on opposite sides of the table. He picked out shards of glass from the victim's skin with a tweezer, listening to the methodic sound of glass hitting metal as he dropped the shards into a bowl one by one.

"Gil?"

He looked up to see her staring at him.

"Did you hear anything I said?" She paused, watching his blank face, "I said the glass shards are superficial."

Grissom simply nodded.

"Are you getting any sleep?" She received no response as she took in his appearance, "Me neither. What do you hear from Sara?" She spoke softly.

Grissom looked up briefly and shook his head in small movements, "I don't know where she is."

Catherine tried to hide her surprise and watched as Grissom returned to the task on hand. Suddenly his appearance was given new light. He wasn't just mourning the loss of Warrick, he was also mourning the loss of Sara. _Even though she lived, he lost her out there in the desert_ , Catherine realized, _and she never really came back._

"She's not in San Fransisco anymore?"

Grissom shrugged mindlessly, "Your guess is as good as mine."

* * *

Grissom laid in bed staring up at the ceiling, just has he had a week ago. Except instead of Sara's head resting on his chest, now it was Hank—Whimpering sadly as the phone continued to ring on.


	45. Chapter 45

Sometimes before the calm, comes the storm.

 **November 2008**

Grissom sat at his home office desk when he heard a ping from his computer. A new email, it's sender: SS SeaShepard .com. He clicked it to find a .MOV file attached. Upon opening it he saw Sara's face, sun kissed and glowing, flashing a sidle-famous grin. She looked good.

He pressed play:

"Hello from Puerto Ayora!" Grissom leaned in a bit to see her face better. It was the first communication they'd had since she last left Vegas. He missed her voice, he realized. He took note of the background behind her, walls covered with photos that she'd clearly taken at sea. There was one photo hanging above the bed, but he couldn't make out who it was. One of the people was Sara, that he knew. But he couldn't tell who the guy was. Perhaps Harry, he though as he tried to get a better look, but he was quickly taken out of his thoughts as Sara continued to speak.

"We've been at sea for a little over a month now. You wouldn't believe the crew. Students, scientists, activists. The dinner conversations alone are mind blowing." A small smile danced on Grissom's lips as he watched her. "There's even this uh, Marine Biologist that reminds me a little bit of you. I wish that we could talk in person but, uh, this is the best that I could do." Grissom detected her nervous laugh and it made his stomach drop,

"I want to apologize for being out of touch."

His face lost all of its color at this. Sara wouldn't have apologized for what happened, not like this. His breath caught in his throat.

"I've been thinking about us a lot." She went on, "All the moments. I thought we could survive anything." She paused, wiping a sad smile off her face, "This trip has given me a lot of clarity. That last year in Vegas, I could barely breathe, let alone think. But, um—now, for the first time in a really long time, I'm happy. Before I left, you said somethings that I tried not to hear but now, uh, I think you were right."

His face grew sad realizing what she was saying. He felt a pit in his stomach, his mouth suddenly dry.

"If a relationship can't move forward, it withers." His words thrown back at him in her voice.

"I've been waiting for you to decide, but—sometimes not making a decision, is making a decision. Anyway—What I'm trying to say is, uh..." She looked down briefly before returning her gaze to the camera, piercing through him, "You don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm good. I'm really good. And honestly—I think it's better this way."

A sharp pain hit his chest, his heart constricting. He couldn't breathe, tears swelling behind his eyes. _What did I do?_

"Well then." She cleared her throat a bit before continuing, "This is um—This is goodbye, Gil. Be well." She flashed a sad smile before turning the camera off.

Grissom was left sitting at his desk with the eerie sound of the empty loft surrounding him. _Why can't I breathe?_ Grissom's head fell into his hands, _It's over, she's gone._

He shuffled to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, suddenly feeling too heavy to carry his own weight. He heard as Hank trotted in after him, whimpering as he jumped up on the bed, resting his snout on Grissom's abdomen.

He stared at the ceiling trying to regain his composure but he couldn't. The pain was so great.

He closed his eyes, all the little moments rushing into view, playing out like vignettes:

 _Her swinging ponytail as she approached him in the lecture hall  
The heat that emanated through his body when she first touched him, shaking his hand.  
When she touched his cheek softly under the pretenses of drywall dust  
Each and every flirtatious smile and gesture  
The smell of her lavender shampoo  
The first time they kissed, the feeling of all of that sexual tension dissipating like ocean waves rushing over him  
Seeing her each time he woke up  
Watching her jog with Hank  
The look in her eye when she broke a case wide open  
The way her head fit so perfectly laying on his chest._

 _His chest._ The pain grew more poignant. Sharp and stabbing near his heart.

His phone began to ring, but he couldn't pick it up. He felt physically and mentally paralyzed. He just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, listing to its shrilling ring.

* * *

Sara closed the computer and began to cry, letting hot tears streak down her face, burning her cheeks. It was hard enough to say those words, let alone be strong while saying them. She hoped she was convincing, giving him a way out. She knew he needed it, to feel guilt free, to move on. She knew he needed her to be the one to wipe their hands of this. She did it for him.

She wiped quickly at the tears as a knock was heard at her door.

"Come in." Sara managed through a cracking voice. Sara glanced over to see Oliver in the doorway.

"Sara, You'll—" Oliver stopped at the sight of her. He walked in tentatively, "Sara... are you okay."

She quickly wiped at the reming tear, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She smiled. This was Oliver Thomas, the marine biologist she'd mentioned just moments earlier in the video. She and Oliver had grown to be good friends since on the Shepard together. Oliver, who studied at Berkley just four years before she did was very intelligent. He looked a suitable mix of science-nerd and athlete with dark hair and olive skin. A subtle hint of hispanic accent lacing his speech.

"Gilbert?" He questioned.

She had mentioned her relationship to Oliver one night on their first week on the boat. She had been hopeful, still, then that he may show up at one of the port cities. But he hadn't. She nodded smally.

"I think it's over." She smiled sadly. Oliver walked over and took her hand in his.

"I know what will make you feel better. Follow me."

Sara followed Oliver to the edge of the boat, he threw her a wetsuit, "Suit up." He grinned and passed her an oxygen tank.

"Oliver, I'm not certified."

"I've been giving you lessons for two weeks now. These waters are calm and clear. Trust me, you'll be fine."

"Okay..." She spoke warily. "I trust you."

Sara slipped into the wetsuit, and let Oliver help her as he hooked up her oxygen tank, mask and regulator. He took a weighted belt and tightened it around her waist.

"Ready?"

"Ready." She replied.

They plunged into the water together, Sara instinctively held her breath as the water rushed over her. _Breathe_ he signaled to her under the water. She took a breath in, hearing the sound of the air pushing through the regulator and filling her lungs. She exhaled. The sound of her breathing mixed with the water swooshing around her began to calm her; Taking her into the most relaxed state she's ever felt before. She descended further to catch up to him, fluttering her legs behind her. The water was so clear and warm. She breathed deeply and exhaled the same. Schools of fish changing direction around her.

Oliver turned around to look at her and signed the scuba sign for sea turtle, then pointed. Sara looked in the direction he aimed his finger at and squinted. Soon a collection of five or six sea turtles came swimming toward them, passing just underneath her. She smiled, causing her mask to fill with water, quickly she cleared it—just like Oliver had taught her.

They staid down there for another twenty minutes or so, until she alerted to Oliver that her air was running low. Slowly she asented to the surface, laughing as she pulled off her mask.

"Feel better?"

"Much." She smiled widely, letting herself float there, staring at the bright blue sky, feeling the sun kiss her cheeks. Oliver floated along side her and began to talk about the migration patterns of the sea life they'd just encountered.

* * *

Grissom finally answered the call after an hour of letting it ring. He got up, quickly fed Hank and left the loft. He drove along to the scene, finding it hard to see as he approached the flashing lights and yellow tape. He couldn't tell if it was the rain crashing into his windshield or the tears in his eyes.

"I should be giving you grief!" Catherine spoke loudly over the harsh sound of intense rain hitting mud puddles and umbrellas. "You were next up. Dispatch said you were unresponsive."

Grissom waived off Catherine's concern and talked through what was left of the scene with her.

"We've got to get this body out of here." Catherine yelled to the cadets. Everyone moved around him working fast as he stayed crouched down to the ground. The haevy rainfall masking the tears falling from his eyes. Her voice replaying in his head, " _Before I left, you said some things I didn't want to hear. But now I think you were right—"_

Catherine watched Grissom from a few feet away. Watching him shake smally. Watching his feature scrunch up. Watching him look to the sky, letting rain hit his face. _Was he crying?_

* * *

Grissom and Nick stood in autopsy asnick talked through the stab wounds in the shirt, counting them as he spoke. Nick looked up when he heard nothing but silence in return from Grissom, to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What's the matter? You got a migraine?"

Grissom dropped his hand from his face, "No. Go call Brass."

"Nipples are swollen." Grissom observed as Nick reentered the room, hanging up the phone with Brass.

Later on in the shift the Grissom stood around the layout room table, looking through photos and evidence with Doc. Robbins and Catherine.

"It's all post mortem. It's hard to take pleasure in someone's pain when they're dead." Robbins mused.

"Which is the gone wrong part." Catherine spoke as she glanced between Grissom and Doc Robbins. Grissom who then abruptly left the room, case file in hand.

Catherine turned to Robbins, "You're a doctor, is that normal?"

"Grissom being socially awkward? Yeah, that's normal."

"He won't talk to me. And he doesn't appear to be sleeping much." Catherine concern was clear.

"Warrick's only been gone for a little over a month," Robbin's tried, "Grieving takes time."

"I know." She paused briefly, "I just, I don't think that's it. I think there's more."

"How so?"

"I think Sara left... I think she left for good."

"Oh." Robbins looked down now, feeling sad for his friend, "Unfortunately, as his colleagues, there's not much we can do about that." He smiled sadly.

* * *

Grissom got in his car and started driving. The deep rooted sadness leached through his body like tree routes taking their hold within him. It was suffocating, heartbreaking. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He started driving without knowing where he was really going... until he pulled up in front of her house.

He got out and stood in the rain for a few minutes, letting the cold water shower down on him. Feeling as cold as his heart. Rain water mixing with tears as he tried to compose himself. Eventually, his feet took him to her door, he knocked and waited patiently, the tears continuing to fall.

Heather looked through the door window to see him standing there, shaking with sadness.

"Grissom." She opened the door and he looked up now, eyes red, face drooped in sadness, "What are you doing here?"

"I should have called, I'm sorry. I—I, I didn't know I was coming." He shrugged.

"What do you want?"

"May I come in?"

"Of course." Heather moved to the side to let him in out of the cold. "Let me get you some tea, you look cold."

She returned moments later with a hot mug of tea in her hands, she handed it off to him, "Thank you."

She looked at him now, taking in his appearance. She hasn't seen Grissom since the last time she was in the hospital, since he reunited her with her granddaughter. She knew Sara was uncomfortable with their friendship, so she made a point to stay away. His face was sad, eyes tired and puffy with dark circles.

"When's the last time you got a good night sleep?"

"Bad dreams." He offered. But even that wasn't completely true. He found it impossible to sleep in his bed at home since Sara had left the second time, having not heard from her in over a month. And being at work was even worse, half of his memories of her were made in the confides of the lab walls. He couldn't escape her. When he could fall asleep, though, he was awoken with a start each time, Warrick's bloodied body wrapped in his arms filling his mind's walls.

"How can I help?"

"I uh, have a body with S&M type wounds. But there are inconsistencies. So I was hoping to get your first impressions."

"My first impression, is that you've changed." She paused and gestured for him to follow her upstairs.

"How have you been?"

Heather proceeded to tell him about her life since they'd last seen one another: Reconnecting with her granddaughter, earning her masters in psychology, opening a therapy practice. They moved to one of the rooms upstairs to discuss the case.

"These wounds are from needle play," She observed through the photos Grissom had handed her, "It's called stacking. May I touch you?"

Grissom nodded absently and watched as Heather moved her fingers to his chest, demonstrating what stacking looks likes. It was the first time he'd been touched in over a month, he realized. It felt foreign.

"I'd like to see photos of their bedroom."

Grissom nodded and pulled out his phone.

"Stokes."

"Nick, It's Grissom. I want photos of the Vic's bedroom."

"Yeah, we're here now. I'll bring photos back to the lab."

"No, I'm not at the lab. Turn on your camera's WiFi settings and turn on the automatic send feature, email them to me."

"Alright, boss." Nick paused, "Where are you?"

"Just email me the photos. Thanks."

* * *

Grissom stared out the window now, watching the rain fall, casting shadows on his face. Sara's voice still flowing through his mind, " _If a relationship is in stasis, it withers."_

"Does Sara know you're here?" Heather's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"No."

"Am I your secret?"

"No." He said more sternly, "And you're not my therapist." He snapped, irritated to hear Sara's name come from Heather's mouth in this way. He sighed and regrouped himself, steering the conversation back to the case at hand.

The night went on, and Grissom continued to absently lead the case from Heather's home through phone calls and emails. Hours past and the sun began to come up.

"Lady heather and she could be sisters." Nick mused as they discussed the female suspect.

"Who's lady Heather?" Riley, the newest team member furrowed her brows.

"That's a whole different Oprah." Greg laughed.

"And I'm changing the channel." Catherine quipped, restoring the conversation.

"Has anyone seen Grissom?" Greg questioned as they all stood around the layout room.

"No." Catherine sad sadly, shaking her head. Suddenly realizing that Grissom was probably with Heather. She prayed that he wasn't doing something he'd regret.

* * *

Grissom and Heather sat together on the couch, enjoying a cup of tea as they continued to talk through the case, receiving updates from the team as they came in.

"May I make a personal observation? As a friend, not as a therapist." Heather moved closer to Grissom. "Everything I've told you you could have read in a book. I think the case is a mere pretext and you're here for a more personal reason." She watched as Grissom diverted his sad eyes, "Where's Sara?" He looked back at her now, lip slightly quivering.

He sat down on a nearby chair, Heather perched herself on the table opposite him.

"She's gone."

"What does that mean?"

"She left. She volunteered on a Sea Shepard headed for the Galapagos Islands."

"Did she ask you to go with her?"

"She did."

"What stopped you?"

"I don't know. A lot of things."

"Devotion to your work? Loyalty to your team? Fear of the unknown." She was hitting it all right on point, he realized. But her guesses were met with silence, "Do you regret your decision to not go with her?"

"It was beyond my control." He shrugged.

"Really?" She challenged. "Most relationships are over before they end. But you mourn the loss, conflicting emotions. But often times there's a sense of relief. We've all experienced it but no one want's to admit it."

"I didn't say the relationship was over." He spoke softly, shrugging again, innocent like.

"You didn't have to. Not making a decision was your decision." Heather's words pulsated through him, almost verbatim to Sara's words in the video. Grissom thought on this for a while, lip quivering again, tears stinging behind his eyes. "I think you're here because it's not home, it's not work, and this is the only place that doesn't remind you of Sara." She continued. "I have a guest bedroom upstairs, you can stay as long as you want."

Grissom looked up at her now and she could see the water pooling in his eyes.

"You're tired Gil." She soothed, "Let's get you set up upstairs." Grissom followed her back upstairs and to the spare room. He walked in and laid on the bed on his side, facing away from the door. He heard her begin to walk out.

"Heather." She stopped in her tracks, "Would you stay?"

She thought a moment before closing the door, her still inside the room, and walked back to the bed, she sat on a chair need him and took his hands in hers, looking into his eyes and seeing the pain and hurt. She stayed silent, letting his reel in his pain.

"I'm not sure what else I can do for you." She finally spoke.

"I just don't want to be alone." His voice was a mere whisper, laced with pain and despair.

"You don't have to be, Grissom. You choose to be."

He looked up at her now, confusion etched over his features.

"Do you feel any sense of relief? Even the smallest inkling?"

He shook his head against the pillow, "No." He whispered, choking on his words.

She continued, "Sara doesn't actually want to end this. She's doing it for you, because she thinks this is what you want, what you need in order to move on. If you don't want to move on, if you still love her, then you need to go after her."

"I can't. I can't leave the team."

"Maybe not now. But one day you're going to wake up and realize that letting her go was the biggest mistake of your life. You're going to wake up and see that Catherine and Nick have take promotions in other labs, that Greg has transferred to days, that Brass has retired and Warrick is still gone. You're going to wake up and be alone, fantasizing about the life you could have had." She paused, watching his chest heave in sadness, "No one can tell you when you'll be ready, Grissom. But when you are, you shouldn't fight it."

Heather signed internally, for she loved him too. But, to take advantage of this moment in their fragile relationship was outside of her morals. She'd let him find his way back to her. If he and Sara were truly meant to be together, she couldn't stand in the way of it.

Her words made sense, but he didn't want to hear it. He wasn't ready yet, and the feeling of being ready scared him too much to understand what that would be like. Soon his eyes grew heavy and the darkness began to flicker in, taking him into his first peaceful rest in over a month.

Heather stayed only a moment longer after he'd fallen asleep, taking in his appearance once more. It broke her heart to see him this way. Suddenly his phone rang, she quickly moved to silence it, before it could wake him. _Catherine_ appeared at the caller ID.


	46. Chapter 46

**November 2008**

It had been a few weeks since receiving Sara's video, since breaking down completely. Slowly he rebuilt his exterior. Hiding once again behind work to shun the pain, the sorrow. And he was doing well at it too, until he opened a letter on his desk.

" _You have been subpoenaed"_ The words read, _"People Vs. Natalie Davis" "Transfer hearing" "Mandated by law to appear" "Consider for transfer from hospital to prison"_ His breath caught in his throat. Flashes from the cases filed into ins mind's eye, reliving each harrowing scene. And then Sara—Finding her miniature in his office, the despair he felt, helpless, hopeless despair. Finding the car without her in sight. Finding the dead hiker, the feeling washing over him that she could die out there. Then, finding her, sunburnt and beaten, unconscious. He couldn't breathe.

He quickly stood and rushed out of his office.

* * *

"Natalie Davis. You're a serial killer. You crushed the skull of a rock star when he was eating breakfast. You poisoned an elderly woman and convultions sent her flailing through a window. You electrocuted a janitor at a chicken slaughter house, you gassed an undercover cop. And when your foster father, in an attempt to save you confessed to the murders in a video suicide, you kidnapped a CSI and trapped her under a car alone in a desert and left her to die there. You were captured and tried by a jury of your peers in the court of law, and what was the verdict?"

"I was found guilty but mentally ill."

Grissom sat in the back of the small court room and watched as Natalie Davis answered the prosecutor's questions. It was the first time he'd seen Natalie since the orginal trial, when he was subpoenaed to testify against her then. Sara had been too, but he didn't go to her part of the trial. She had asked him not to. At the time, he couldn't quite understand why, but he respected her wishes.

"What does that mean?" Mrs. Nicoles pressed.

"That means when I committed my crimes, I knew that what I was doing was wrong. But after I was arrested I suffered a psychotic breakdown."

"You were diagnosed with catatonic schizophrenia. You don't seem catatonic right now."

Catatonic Schizophrenia. Grissom restated in his head. He had known this was her diagnosis at the time of her trial based on mental evaluations by professionals. But for the first time, he seemed to make a connection. Sara had been the victim, yet again, of a woman with schizophrenia. Perhaps it had been because he'd so recently read her case files from foster care that he was able to make this connection now. Could that be why this ordeal had impacted her far beyond what he'd expected?

"I'm taking medications that make that go away."

Sara's mother was on a similar medication regiment, he noted.

"And how do you feel?"

"I feel like I used to. Normal."

"And that is why you no longer need to be treated in a psychiatric facility. You are well enough to server the sentence you were given. You're not mentally ill. Not anymore. You're just guilty."

Natalie stepped off the stand and took a seat, looking back she spotted Grissom sitting there in a pew behind her.

"These proceedings will resume at 10am tomorrow. Until then, we are adjourned." The judge hit his gavel and Natalie was escorted out. Grissom watched as she walked away.

"Dr. Grissom"

"Mrs. Nicoles."

"Glad to see you. Is Sara coming too?"

"I'm afraid she's not available." He spoke sadly.

"I see." She paused before continuing, "You know Gil, you were the only person in the room when Natalie had her psychotic break. It would really help me out if you'd get up there and testify."

"I can't render an opinion about her mental state. I'm not a psychiatrist or a psychologist."

"I'd call you as a percipient witness. You'd only have to testify about what you observed with your own eyes. How she was then, how she is now. I can arrange a meeting with Natalie."

"Okay." His voice was soft and small, "I would like to see her."

* * *

The next morning, Grissom entered the laundry facility at the mental institution where Natalie was being treated.

"Hello, Natalie."

"Hello," She looked up from her task to see Grissom standing there, "I wasn't surprised to see you yesterday."

"You weren't?" Grissom demeanor was soft, understanding, non-judgemental.

"You want to see me go to jail. I understand that. People who do bad things need to be punished."

"Well I think you're already being punished."

"Then why did you come here?"

"The only time I ever saw you, you weren't yourself. I wanted to see the person you really are."

"Well, here I am. Is Sara going to speak at the hearing too?"

"No. She doesn't work with us anymore."

"Because of what I did to her?"

"I don't know."

"She left Las Vegas?"

"She did."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know."

Natalie nodded as she continued to fold a white cotton sheet methodically. "You're not together."

"No." Grissom voice was even smaller now, not having said that aloud until this moment.

"It is because of me. I can see it in your eyes." She paused before continuing, keeping her eyes on Grissom's, "I'm very sorry, about what i did to Sara—And to you. My foster father killed himself because of me. I was wrong to blame anyone else for it."

"Is that how you really feel? Or how you think you should feel?"

"It is how I feel." She placed the folded sheet in a pile and started on the next one, "I didn't know how similar Sara and I were until I drove her out to the desert that night." Natalie began. Her speech staccato, "She told me about her time in foster care, pleading with me to let her go." Grissom squinted in pain, getting his first glimpse into what actually happened that night during the time between Sara being tasered and then found by Nick. "She told me about her father. About her mother. What her mother did to her."

Grissom swallowed hard, trying to keep a poker face not to give Natalie the satisfaction that these words were almost too much for him to bare. Especially because he needed to hear more. Sara had not once spoken about what happened during that time of the night as Natalie transported her.

Natalie continued, "I told her that Ernie was the only person I ever loved." She looked down at the sheet before gazing back up to Grissom, "She tried desperately to deny her relationship with you, grasping at anything that would help her stay alive. But I could see it. The way her eyes lit up at your name. She couldn't hide it from me."

"Natalie..."

"I know. It was a horrible thing." She spoke, "But I thought you should now... people can change."

* * *

Grissom sat on the stand now as Mrs. Nicolas asked him questions about Natalie's metal state:

"...By the time she was captured she had kidnapped a member of your team. You interviewed her one time, why only that once?"

Grissom proceeded to explain what he viewed when Natalie slipped into her psychotic break. Reliving the moment, the despair. The lucid feeling that Sara was gone.

Natalie's defense stood, taking his place to begin to ask Grissom questions, his cross-examination:

"I really only have one thing to ask you Dr. Grissom: What do you hope to get out of coming here?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Let me help. Are you trying to punish Natalie for what she did to Sara Sidle? Your co-worker and lover?"

"During the interview, I did become... frustrated."

"Oh, I know. I saw the police video. You violently shook Ms. Davis when she wouldn't give you Ms. Sidle's location. If you had been alone and unsupervised, you probably would have beaten it out of her."

"Objection, this is hypothetical." Mrs. Nicolas stated, but Grissom answered anyway.

"As I said I was frustrated. I was also afraid for my coworker."

"And lover." The defense interjected, "So you are here for revenge. Ms. Sidle has since left the department, left Las Vegas, left you? Perhaps because of the incident."

"Objection! Relevance."

Grissom laughed through a sigh, "I don't care about revenge. I have no stake in the outcome of these proceedings. Whether Natalie stays here or goes to prison, is at the discretion of this court. I've been trying to believe that people can change. Even people who are damaged. But I don't know if they can." He looked down at his hands sadly, "I just don't know." The damaged person he was referring to was himself, and Natalie could see right through him.

* * *

"Your wrong about me." Natalie stood now wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, ready to be transferred. Grissom stood in the doorway, "I really have changed." She walked past him and turned back, "And I really do believe that people who do bad things need to be punished."

It was a few minutes later as he stood alone in the now empty room that he found her last miniature. Herself, hanging. He looked at it horrified.

* * *

He took the circuitous route back to the lab, needing the time to himself to think, to process. Before he realized it, it was headed home instead of the lab. He walked in for the first time in nearly a week and was assaulted by all the good memories of Sara. Sitting on the couch, he caught site of the Sunday cross word he had began filling out last week sitting on the coffee table, only half done. Sara would have already finished it for him by now, he mused and smiled sadly, allowing himself to admit just how much he missed her.

The loft was painfully quiet. He didn't even have Hank anymore, he realized sadly. Two years had come and gone and Peter had returned from being stationed in the middle east. He'd returned to Vegas, and returned to reunite with his dog, Hank. Thanking Grissom thoroughly for looking after him for all these years. Everything was changing around him, and he was staying the same.

Natalie's words from earlier in the day assaulted him. Replaying what she said about Sara in his mind. The images of the abduction rushing through him again:

 _Her eyes flickering open, if only briefly, as the helicopter took off.  
_ _Her hand in his, limp and lifeless.  
_ _Her eyes when they opened in the hospital, confused and in pain  
_ _Her soft smile when she saw him by her bedside  
The way she whispered 'I love you' through her pain  
_ _The excited look she presented at seeing Dave Crow enter her room_

 _Dave._ He thought quickly and picked up his phone, effortlessly dialing his number:

"Crow."

"Crow, it's Grissom."

"Gil." Crow's voice softened, "I've been expecting your call for some time now. How are you?"

"Im alright, and yourself?"

"No really, _how are you_?"

"I—I don't know."

He could hear Crow sigh on the other line, "What can I do for you?"

"I was—I was, uh—I was wondering if you had information on Sara's whereabouts."

"I do." He waited for Grissom to respond, but there was only silence on his end, "What do you want with it?"

"I'm ready now." Grissom spoke somewhat hesitantly. He truly didn't feel entirely ready, but he took what Heather had to say to heart: _When you are ready, don't fight it._

"It's about time." He could hear Crow's smile through his voice,

"You—uh, you don't think it's too late?"

"It's only too late if you let it be, Gil. I'll email you over the information. She's still in the Galapagos but in the Sea Shepard trip will be over in two weeks."

"Will she be back in San Fransisco then?"

"No, she's just taken an opportunity to do field research with some of the other crew members from the ship. She'll be in Costa Rica for the next few months, or until their grant runs out."

"I see."

"It may make sense for you to wait until she's there. Give you time to wrap things up in Vegas as well."

He hadn't even thought about that—About any of it thoroughly. "Okay." Was his simple reply.

"I'm emailing you over the details now. And Gil—"

"Yes?"

"Before you leave, you should come stop by the Lab here... I have something you need to take with you." The phone clicked off and Grissom was met with silence, wondering what it was Dave was referring to.

A small smile crept onto his face at the idea of reuniting with her, of seeing her again, of surprising her in the jungle. But just as quickly is disappeared, realizing that he'd be leaving behind everything he knew here. Leaving the life he built, the team he built. He breathed deeply, trying his best to regain composure before leaving his loft and heading back to the lab.


	47. Chapter 47

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and kind words! Keep 'em coming :)

Just as a reminder, I do plan to take this story all the way through the series finale and perhaps even a few chapters past that with an epilogue. So don't fret, the end is not too soon :)

However, I did stop watching after Grissom left and have only caught a handful of the episodes between then and the finale, so I do apologize for any inaccuracies when we get to that point of the story.

Anyway, here's chapter 47, enjoy!

* * *

"These people who come to Vegas, some want to become rich or famous. And then there's the people that are from here. And we know, that the odds are always in favor of the house. It's what built this town. You didn't come here to become famous—did you?" Catherine spoke as she and Grissom walked through the flashing lights and booze filled tourists on the strip. Walking at a slow, leisurely pace.

"I came to play cards."

"No, for real."

"I did, I came to play cards. I needed the money. I thought I was in love with this girl in college. But I kept getting into debt buying cadavers and fetal pigs. There was no money left for the girl, science took the pot."

"Well maybe it just wasn't, the right girl." Catherine offered with a smirk.

Grissom shrugged, "Plus, poker allowed me to be a loner and still make money."

"Oh, right. When's the last time you played?"

"I can't remember." He lied. He had played just earlier that evening with the old sheriff in an attempt to get him to talk about the case. But before that, his last game had been two weeks before he and Sara had gotten together. "You know to most people risk is a bad thing, but in Vegas it's a good thing." He thought about the risk he made going over to Sara's apartment that night after Nick had been found. He thought about the risk he was about to make, leaving his whole life here behind him.

"See!" Catherine said happily in her silver-lining voice, "Paid for your pig, made roots, friends, family—well a work family anyway." She quickly amended.

"Yeah." Grissom stared ahead, "Maybe it's time to up the ante."

Catherine kept a poker face as she glanced back up at Grissom, a smile starting to jerk the corners of her mouth upright. She breathed in largely and exhaled. _The time was coming_ , she realized. Her feelings were conflicted. She knew this day would come, and she just hoped that he was going after her.

* * *

 **December 2008**

Grissom picked up the assignment slips from his desk and began to walk out the door. Looking down in his hands was his weekly crossword puzzle, only one word missing. He looked at a minute longer. "SIALID" a type of insect family, he concluded, which filled in the remaining words of "Solute and Held". He sighed and threw the crossword in the trash without finishing filling it in.

He walked into the break room briskly. "Riley. Suspicious 425 remains at the city dump."

"Awesome! Trash run for the low man on the totem pole."

"I promise not to abuse my power over you." Greg smirked.

Nick jumped in, "Watch your back, Riley."

"For our new CSI level 3, 40A uncovered stolen vehicle at McCareen." Grissom placed the yellow slip in front of Greg. "Nick, 402 possible arson at the Burger Giant."

"Well, there goes the night. Why don't we all meet up at the coffee shop after work. Level three over here's going to buy." He exchanged a quick laugh with Greg.

"I'll take care of breakfast," Catherine spoke up, walking toward the table now and standing next to Grissom. She knew what was coming—not that Grissom had told her, like he should have. But she knew. She could sense the conflicting relief washing over Grissom, shedding emotional weight little by little over the last few days. She has seen Grissom in Ecklie's office, sitting. Something he would do under very few circumstances, leaving being one.

And she was right, over the last few weeks, once he had officially made up his mind, Grissom took the necessary actions needed to leave the Lab with as little disruption as possible. He opened the hiring process, filed the papers to promote Catherine, boxed up some belongings and took them home without many people noticing. He'd contacted the grant-instated field research office in Costa Rica, asking to join their team. Made arrangements to get there and packed his bags. Now all that was left was telling the team, but he didn't feel ready.

"And the 419 in Green Valley." Catherine continued, "Looks like the King gets to sit on the bench for now." Grissom stood in the threshold tentatively now. Catherine could sense he was conflicted, could sense he didn't know how to say it, "Is that it?" She tried giving him a little push.

"No. I know this has been a tough year—for all of us. And I've been thinking, I mean, more than usual. And I've made a decision. I'm going to leave CSI." He took a deep breath, hearing his own words echo through his ears, watching his team's surprised faces, "Catherine, will become the new supervisor so you'll be in good hands. While I'm clearing my case load, Ecklie is preparing a list of candidates for a new Level 1 hire. So you won't be short handed." At this point Grissom's phone began to ring, he looked at the screen, "And I guess I just came off the bench: 419 in Mt. Charleston. Okay?"

Grissom ducked his head and turned on his heels, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. Leaving his team sitting there in awe, shock. Catherine smiled sadly. They all watched as he walked down the hall, disappearing from sight.

The air in the break room was thick and silent until finally Catherine broke it, "Alright, so—Breakfast at Franks after everyone's wrapped?"

"Yeah. Okay." Nick spoke absently, still reeling from the news.

* * *

Hodges, Nick and Catherine stood over the soup body in autopsy, spilling the remains onto the cold slate.

"Let me get this straight. Grissom didn't say that he was leaving permanently. So he could be taking a leave of absence. That's a form of leaving, right?" Hodges was clearly upset by the chatter he came across in the halls early that day.

"I think this is, l _eaving_ leaving." Catherine offered.

"What's he going to do? Teach? Right a book? Go off and study bugs somewhere?"

"You know as much as I do, Nicky."

These conversations would happen all throughout shift. Everyone feeling very blindsided by the news—both hurt and curious.

"Are you really leaving?" Doc spoke between giving Grissom the rundown of the body.

"Yep." He replied simply, "Think of it this way, you'll have someone new you can tell all your old jokes to."

"I like the old guy just fine." He paused, "Are you running away from something? Running to something, or someone?" Doc had a hunch.

"I'm running to my office." He smirked.

"I think you're nuts. I am never going to retire." Doc spoke under his breath as Grissom left through the double doors.

* * *

Catherine and Grissom sat in AV together, recreating custom sneakers the victim was wearing. There was a moment of silence between the two, so Grissom took his opportunity,

"Catherine," His voice was soft. She looked up at him, "I—I uh, I know I surprised you today...with the—"

"I knew." She interjected with a sad smile, "I knew before you knew." She looked into her friends eyes and smiled again, feeling relief for him. "Okay then," She gave him the out, knowing he'd had too many of these conversations already and steered the discussion back to the case at hand.

Shift went on and the team came together to finish out one last case for Grissom strong. The Dick and Jane killer turned out to be the perfect puzzle for just that. Over the next several hours, they would find an accomplice to the imprisoned serial killer, a new lead. It led them to a lecture being taught by Ray Langston at the university. Grissom slipped into the class, undercover in sorts, to observe the killer.

"You're going to miss this. You are." Dave spoke as he helped Grissom collect some of the pupae from the body."

"There are bugs everywhere, David." He paused briefly and looked up at the man standing opposite him, "I am going to miss you though."

Dave smiled sadly, water filling his eyes. He quickly excused himself, feeling too emotional.

Shift wore on, turning into a double, forcing Grissom to rearrange his departure, feeling the need to see this case through. He made a few quick calls to the field office in Costa Rica, to the airline to change his flights, to Dave to let him know not to expect him that day. Eventually though, the case was reigned in. They found DJK's accomplice, who had been hiding in plain sight in Dr. Langston's lecture hall. They had used forensic astronomy to locate the cabin in the desert, to free the girl currently captured there.

His parting conversations with Nick and Greg proved to be more difficult that the others:

"I will _never_ forget the things you taught me."  
"You're the best student I ever had, Nick."

"So you're really leaving?"  
"I am, Greg."  
Greg smiled sadly, "I just wanted to say, to say thank you. For everything you've taught me, the opportunity you gave me to leave the lab and enter the field." He paused briefly, "Tell her I say _hi."_ Grissom hadn't told anyone where he was going, but the evidence had been clear, he was sure.

Grissom finished packing up his office. Placing framed butterflies and mason jar experiments into boxes. He took out two entomology textbooks and wrote _Good luck_ in each, signing them _Grissom._ He left them on his desk for Catherine to find once she took over his office. He finished cleaning out his desk drawers, finding Warrick's memorial pamphlet there. He sadly placed it in the box before looking back up thinking to the future, to seeing Sara. The though caused the corners of his lips to upturn.

Grissom walked the lab halls for the last time. Watching lab techs conduct their business, Nick process the suspects car, Catherine and Brass sitting in the break room. Catherine looked up at spotted him, giving him an encouraging smile and a wink. And with that, he turned on his heels and walked out of the lab for the last time.

* * *

Grissom landed in San Fransisco a few hours later having a three hour layover there. He quickly got into a cab and headed straight to the SF Crime lab, as Dave had made him promise he would do.

"Grissom." Dave called from down the hall. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm feeling good." He spoke shaking the older man's hand.

"Come, I have something for you." Grissom followed Dave back to his office and watched as he opened the top drawer of his desk. "Here." Dave handed him a small manilla envelope with a slight budge in it.

Through furrowed brows, Grissom opened the flap and looked inside, _his grandmothers ring._

"She'd asked me to send it to you.. but I couldn't. I had a good feeling this day would come. And here you are." Dave put an encouraging hand on Grissom's shoulder, "Go get 'her." He smiled widely.

* * *

One eight hour flight later and Grissom arrived in warm, humid Costa Rica. He'd taken a taxi to the village he was told to go to, about a thirty minute drive. From there, he was picked up by a shuttle of sorts, that took him half way up the mountain.

"This is as far as I can take you." The driver spoke as he screeched the cart to a halt. "You'll be going seven miles due east. The GPS should be sufficient means for you to get there."

"Thank you." Grissom spoke, patting the GPS in his pocket to ensure he still had it. He quickly tipped the driver and watched as he sped off down the trail. Grissom pressed onward, making his way through tall grass and canopied trees. He stopped a few times along the way, spotting insects and bugs that intrigued him. He smiled widely, feeling the life of the land and its stark contrast to the cold blue of death in Vegas. He finally began to understand what Sara had meant.

A little over two hours into the hike, Grissom came across a clearing. He checked the GPS and confirmed his arrival. He took a few tentative steps forward, watching as the campsite came into view.

 _There she was._

His mouth fell open at the sight of her and his breath caught in his chest. She stood there, her back to him. He took in her appearance, her hair shorter than before, her posture relaxed as she photographed a small monkey up in the tree. He couldn't move, paralyzed by her sight. He could feel his heart beating faster, constricting.

She could feel a new presence, could feel eyes on her. She turned around slowly to see what was behind her causing this feeling. And there he was, as if he appeared out of no where. Standing in the clearing, wearing his goofy straw hat, large pack on his back, staring at her with wide eyes and a small smile.

Tears began to rush to her eyes before she could really comprehend what was happening. Her camera fell from her hand, catching on the strap. A shocked look flowing across her features as she bit back her tears. Their eyes locking.

Grissom dropped his pack, a large smile forming on his lips as he took three large strides to her, wrapping her up in his arms and taking her lips in his. Kissing her deeply, passionately. She held onto him tightly, convincing herself that his was real. Not one of the many day dreams she'd have of this moment.

Tears fell freely now as he deepened the kiss. She then buried her head in the nook of his shoulder and let out a small sob. He placed a gentle hand to the back of her head, lettings his fingers feel her soft hair. Taking in her lavender scent. That scent that'd been absent in his life for over two months now.

He kept opening his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out so he just held her tighter.

"Gil." She whispered against him, her tears falling to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry it took me so long." He soothed, pulling back to look into her watery eyes.

"You're here now." She smiled widely, bringing her hand up to his scruff covered cheek. "You're here now."


	48. Chapter 48

Grissom and Sara stood there under the hot Costa Rican sun staring into each others eyes. Each unable to believe that they'd finally have the other there with them.

"God I've missed you." He breathed through a wide smile.

She moved her hand from his cheek up behind his head, weaving her long fingers through his curls.

"Sara!" A voice called from the distance, but neither heard it immediately until the voice grew louder, growing closer, "Sara! Have you seen the—" The voice cut off at the sight of the new visitor. "Oh, I'm sorry." The man walked over to them, now having their attention. "I didn't mean to intrude." The man wore a big goofy grin and stuck out his hand. "You must be Dr. Grissom."

Sara furrowed her brows, "You two know each other?"

He ignored Sara, "I'm Charlie, the one you've been emailing with."

"Ah yes. It's nice to finally meet you." They shook hands.

"Well. Let's get you set up, shall we?" Charlie turned around headed back to the tented area, assuming they'd follow—and they did, slowly.

"You've been emailing Charlie?" Sara glanced in Grissom's direction with a curious smirk.

"I couldn't just show up here." He smiled, "I had to make sure they could use another hand."

She nodded knowingly, "Did he tell you that we'll only be up here for another week?"

"Yes." Grissom readjusted his pack that was now once more on his back, "And then we're headed back to the research station in the village?"

Sara nodded to confirm.

"Alright. So we've got our boys tent and girls tent, but, uh—since Sara was the only girl on this trek she's got her own tent. You can bunk in either I guess."

"He'll stay with me." Sara smiled, knowing that Charlie was only trying to make her uncomfortable.

"I'll let you two get settled. Feel free to grab your cot from our tent whenever." Charlie turned to leave, leaving Sara and Grissom alone in her small tented space.

Grissom dropped his back to the floor and rubbed at his neck. "You must be exhausted." She moved toward him, taking in his appearance.

"A little." He spoke truthfully. But he couldn't stop staring at her. It felt like an eternity since he'd been with her. Especially considering their lack of communication over this last period of absence. "I'd love a shower." He smiled, knowing he'd be hard pressed to find one out here.

"There's a cool stream just north of here. I'll take you." Sara grabbed a small bucket of toiletries and lead him fifteen minutes off base camp. She sat by the edge of the stream as he wadded in the water, dunking his head in and letting the cool current crash into him. Her feet dangling at the side as she watched him.

"I can't believe you're here." She paused, "It's cheesy, I know."

He looked back and smiled softly, "Me either, honestly." He squeezed some of the shampoo Sara had brought for him into his hand hand lathered it through his hair, then quickly rinsed.

"When do you have to head back?"

He simply shook his head, not saying a word.

"I don't understand."

"Im—um... well, there's no time that I need to be back because—" He raised his eyebrows in his quirky boyish manner, "Well, because I resigned."

"Grissom." Sara's face fell in shock. "Grissom, I never asked you to do that."

"It was time." He nodded as he finished washing off some body wash and dried off, sitting next to Sara now at the edge of the steam. "After Warrick died." He swallowed a lump in his through, saying those words were still difficult, "I was lost. Confused. Hurt. I said somethings that I don't think I really meant and, when I received your video—" He gazed up into her eyes, "When I received your video I realized just how far gone I really was. I was a shell of the person I once was. A shell of the person I am when I'm with you. It was the right time for me to go. And the team is in good hands."

Sara nodded, trying to process this all, "The team. How'd they take it?"

"They'll be just fine. Greg sends his regards though."

She smiled at this, thinking of her friend. She then rested her head against Grissom's shoulder, staring mindlessly out at the water's current, splashing against a rock. They sat there like that peaceful, quiet. Just enjoying the other's presence back in their lives.

* * *

An hour or so later she, Grissom and the other four researchers out on this campsite came together for dinner, sitting around a campfire, discussing the daily research results and getting to know their new team member a bit more.

"So Gil," Charlie started, "You won't believe the luck we had when you informed us of your background. We've got this project we're working on down at the main station. It's for a different grant, but we'd love your eyes on it. It's about the rainforest's indigenous insect specious and their change in breeding habits. Our hypothisis is the change is due to climate change as well as human impact as far as deforestation. Any interest in joining that research crew?"

"Absolutely." Grissom glowed, "Sounds interesting. Before coming out here I was actually studying colony collapse disorder among worker bees."

Sara smiled, thinking about that day in the bee keeper outfits. She absent-mindedly touched her chest where the ring used to hang. Rubbing at the skin there softly. A movement not unnoticed by Grissom.

Grissom thought about the bees for a moment longer. That study had been so exciting to him when he'd first found the nest at the crime scene. But after Sara left, he found it impossible to step foot into the tented area. He ended up passing over the bee's to a young, eager day shift CSI who'd been interested in the experiment. He hadn't returned since.

"Great." Charlie spoke through bitefulls, pulling both Grissom and Sara out of their separate thoughts.

The group spent the rest of the night exchanging stories, laughs and theories. Grissom smiled as he watched Sara effortless challenge her fellow field researchers, some of which had been on the Sea Shepard with her. Grissom learned that quite a few of Sara's fellow crew members from the Sea Shepard ended up stationing in Costa Rica along with her to continue field research below the equator.

One by one the team seemed to have disapered back into their respective tents, turning in for the night until just Grissom and Sara remained. Sara stared ahead at the fire, crackling and dancing as in burned lower and lower, sending black smoke up into the night air.

He watched as she touched her chest again, feeling the absent space where the ring once hung like a pendant.

"Missing something?" She turned to face him as he spoke, cocking her head to the side in confusion.

Grissom reached into his pocket and took out the manilla envelope, shaking the ring out into his other hand. He held it out to her.

"Gil." She breathed softly with surprise and a hint of shame.

"I wanted to bring it back to its rightful owner." He pulled out a simple necklace chain from his other pocket, slipped the ring through it and moved closer to Sara. He brushed her hair to the side, letting his fingertips gently graze the back of her neck as he clasped the chain together. "I'm sorry that I gave you the impression that you needed to leave this behind." Grissom spoke smally, honestly.

His words were met with a big grin from Sara. "I have it now." She spoke as her hand moved to feel the ring against her chest, "I have everything I need now." Her deep brown orbs pierced through him, causing his breath to catch. After all this time, he was still amazed at how the slightest gesture or look from her could cause his body to react in such a manner.

* * *

They lay on the cot together, legs intertwined, her head on his bare chest. Her arm lazily draped over his abdomen. His hand roaming in her soft hair. This is what he had missed most, just laying with her, being able to feel her against him, having her scent invade his senses. His chest rose and fell steadily with each content breath as she traced small circles with her finger tips.

"You're going to love the research crew at the main base." Sara spoke softly as she readjusted herself on the not-so-comfortable cot. "There's so much life here. You can just feel the stark difference in energy."

She could feel Grissom nod absently, "I can already feel it." He smiled, pulling her closer.

* * *

Catherine stood in the large now empty office that once occupied specimen jars, framed bugs and endless piles of backlogged paperwork. But now, all that was left was the eerie quiet space and a few boxes Grissom had left behind.

A few of the boxes were addressed to the research station in Costa Rica that he'd asked her to send to him. She handed off the boxes to the currier one by one. As she went to hand him the last box, she noticed it was not addressed. Instead, "Catherine." Was scrawled across it in his handwriting.

"This one's staying here." She said a bit absently as she watched the currier leave with the addressed packages. She thumbed over the flaps of the cardboard box before opening it. She opened the box and took it's contents out one by one: Piggy (his prized fetal pig), a framed butterfly and a few textbooks took up the space inside. As she opened the entomology textbook, an envelope fell out. Her name once again scrawled across it. She opened the flap and took out the letter, bracing herself against the edge of the desk as she read:

 _Catherine:_

 _You have been the only constant in my life for a very long time. Your friendship, support and compassion has meant more to me than words can offer. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone for, all I know where I'm going. I have every confidence in your success in leading the team from here on._

 _Be well. I'll miss you dearly._

 _Best,  
Gil_

Catherine smiled sadly, already missing her dear friend and mentor. In truth, Grissom had been the only man in her life to always be there for her. She was happy that he'd taken this step in his life, but she couldn't help but to feel sad at his departure. She took a deep breath to clear her head and returned the letter back to its envelope and tucked it into the entomology textbook.

* * *

 **January 2009**

The field team trekked back to the small village in Costa Rica where the lab was stationed after having spent a few weeks in the rain forrest. Sara introduced him around to the other ten scientists and researchers around the facility.

"Oliver!" She called down a hallway, seeing the back of his head. He spun on the heels of his feet.

"You're back." He spoke happily as he approached her. "I've missed my diving buddy."

Sara grinned, "I want you to meet someone. Oliver, this is Gil. Gil, this is the marine biologist I'd told you about, Oliver."

"Ah, the infamous Gilbert Grissom." The man smiled and shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Were you also on the Sea Shepard?"

"I was." Oliver glanced over to Sara before continuing, "Your girl's a natural diver."

"Oliver." A voice called from a room just off the hallway, "Those water samples are back."

Oliver gestured his head in the room's direction, "I better tend to that. Let's catch up later. I want to hear and the forrest trek." Oliver smiled at Sara and nodded politely toward Grissom before ducking into the room.

"Diving?" Grissom raised an eyebrow quizzically. Sara's only response was a soft laugh and smile.

Costa Rica proved to be a wonderful new start for Grissom and Sara. Their days were filled with science, research and treks with other likeminded persons. They'd explore the small string of villages in the area together, go for short hikes and canoe excursions through the rivers. Canoeing had become a favorite pass time of theirs as they explored the terrain, documenting species and insects along the way.

It was on one of these very canoe trips, as the sat still letting the water slowly take them further down the river that Grissom turned to Sara,

"Pierre offered me a position guest lecturing at the Sorbonne in France..." His voice trailed off tentatively. Pierre was another researcher stationed in Costa Rica, who had joined the crew during his teaching off season. Pierre, Grissom learned, was an esteemed professor of botany at the Sobonne.

"Wow." Sara looked up at him now, "That's wonderful. What did you say?" Sara liked Pierre a lot. He was a kind man in his early to mid sixties with thick white hair and a lanky build. He reminded her of what Grissom's father would have been like, especially considering is botany background.

"That'd I'd get back to him after discussing with you."

Sara smiled. This was a new Grissom. Never before, would she expect him to think to talk with her first. For him to communicate so easily.

"Let's do it." She grinned from ear to ear, "Let's move to Paris."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She leaned over and kissed his lips softly.

Without skipping a beat in his next breath he blurted, "We should get married."

Sara looked up in surprise at the out-of-the-blue sentiment. "What?"

"Do you still want to? You know—"

"Yes." She smiled widely, cutting him off. Feeling overwhelmed suddenly.

"Maybe we should do that here, before making arrangements for Paris."

She nodded, thinking about that for a moment, "Okay."

He flashed her a boyish grin as he picked up the oars and continued to row a few more strides. "Okay." He echoed.


	49. Chapter 49

**February 2009**

"So you're getting married here? Not back in the states?" Oliver questioned as he and Sara sat in the research lab going over numbers and data.

"We are." She smiled.

"So by this time next week you'll be Mrs. Grissom." She could sense a bit of disappointment in his tone. He reminded her a little of Greg in that way, where she knew nothing romantic would ever happen but that idea on his end had ignited what was now a very solid friendship.

"Actually, according to Costa Rican custom, the woman keeps her maiden name."

"Is that right?"

She nodded smally as put her nose down the microscope once more, "Though we haven't really talked about that..." Her voice trailed off, realizing neither had given that much thought before.

Later that night, she and Grissom laid in their bed together. Her head resting in the space of her chest where she could feel his heartbeat against her.

"Gil." She spoke softly, taking a hand of his in hers.

"Yes, dear?"

"I realized we haven't talked much, or at all really, about my surname..."

"You know, according to Costa Rican cultural rituals, the bride typically keeps her maiden name." This was met with a deep, husky laugh from sara. "What?" He questioned, sitting up now to look into her eyes.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just—I quoted that same line to Oliver earlier in the day when we were discussing it."

"I see." His eyes twinkled as his boyish grin surfaced on his lips. "You know, If you'd like—You can legally keep Sidle, and we can just call you Mrs. Sara Grissom." He grinned a bit mischievous now as he began to closed the space between them.

"Mrs. Grissom." She echoed, their faces now mere centimeters apart. "I like the sound of that."

"Me too." He breathed softly before taking her lips in his and kissing her passionately, desperately wanting.

* * *

Grissom and Sara stood together, facing one another. Her hands rested in his reassuring grip as the officiate spoke on until it was time for the vows. The officiate nodded his head in gesture for Grissom to begin:

"I, Gil, take you, Sara, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us." He stared deep into Sara's eyes, watching her emotions play out. Feeling the warmth in her hands rise.

Sara thought back to all the years and moments it took for them to get to this point. To have him here with here, standing in front of her likes this, vulnerable and exposed. She thought back to the lecture hall, the giddy school-girl like crush she had on him immediately. She thought about how she uprooted her life from San Fransisco all on a hunch that he may feel the same. She thought of the earlier years in Las Vegas, alone and cold, always at the brunt of his bad moods and emotional unavailability. Then that night in May of 2005 when he'd finally succumb to his feelings and let their relationship begin to blossom. That was almost four years ago now.

The officiate gave Sara a small nudge, taking her out of her daydream and reminding her it was her turn to speak.

"Gil, You know that I love you—I feel I've loved you my whole life. Today, I take you as my husband, with your faults and your strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and my strengths. I will help you when you need help, and turn to you when I need help. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life."

They exchanged simple silver wedding bands. Grissom let his hands linger as he slipped the band over her long slender finger. Feeling her smooth skin below the pads of his finger tips.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. Gilbert Arthur Grissom, you may kiss your bride." Grissom lifted his hand to Sara's cheek and gently pulled her toward him, kissing her lips softly.

Grissom felt completely overwhelmed as he pulled back and looked deep into Sara's eyes. Watching her smile her Sidle-famous grin— _or would he call it her Grissom-famous grin now?_ He mused.

It had been one month since the canoe ride where Grissom told Sara about Paris. In that time their research grant had winded down and as of yesterday, ran out. They both took this is a sign to marry that week and begin their honeymoon across South America before settling in France for a while. So that's just what they did. After the ceremony Grissom and Sara retrieved their bags, shipped a few boxes to Paris and made their way for the airport.

 **First Stop: Mexico.**

* * *

Grissom had been very insistent that they travel to Mexico once they were married, and Sara couldn't quite understand why. When she'd ask, he'd simply say, "There's something there I want to show you."

"It's about a four hour hike from here." Grissom spoke as he reviewed the paper terrain map in his hands. Sara readjusted the pack on her back.

"To where?" She tried again but Grissom's only response was a silent smile. She'd been trying to get him to give up the end destination for the whole trip from Costa Rica here, but he wasn't budging.

The two hiked through the forest and mountainy terrain, taking breaks every now and then to rest their legs and drink some water.

"These hiking legs could have come in handy out in the desert that day." She didn't need to elaborate, he knew exactly what she was talking about. The fact that she was able to bring up the incident so casually reassured him that she really was okay. This trip had done wonders for her, for both of them.

He simply smiled in return.

"Did you mail out the post card in the last village?"

"I did." He responded simply. Grissom and Sara were trying their best to keep their former co-workers in mind, knowing they'd appreciate even the most subtle communication from the couple. Each city they passed through, Grissom and Sara had formed a habit of sending out post cards. One for the team back in Vegas, one for his mother, and one for the Crow family.

It was around this time that the team in Vegas received their first post card from Costa Rica. This postcard, however, was in an envelope since Grissom and Sara had added a photo to the message. The post card read:

 _Hello from just north of the equator in Costa Rica!_  
 _Grissom joined me here nearly two months ago at this point.  
_ _He's been assisting in determining insect migration and reproduction changes due to climate change  
_ _While I've been studying and classifying marine life.  
_ _Today we got married and are now headed across South America for our Honeymoon_

 _We miss you all._

 _Love,  
_ _The Grissoms Xx_

Catherine nearly lost her balance in reading the post card. She shook out a small photo from the envelope to see Grissom standing just behind Sara, his arms wrapped around her, smiling. The photo looked to have been taken just after getting married. Her heart swelled with happiness for her friends.

She quickly made her way to the break room to share the news with the rest of team.

From then, Catherine had started a timeline of sorts of the post cards. Each one received, the team would get together in the break room and read it. Then she'd pin it on a bulletin board in the office Nick, Greg and Reilly now shared—Grissom's old office—and post them in chronological order. She even used the little tacks that Grissom used to post up pupae for his linear regression timelines.

Grissom and Sara continued to trek on. "We should arrive in 30 minutes or so." Grissom spoke through slightly ragged breathing.

"Lets take another break here then." Sara took a few more steps and sat down on a large log. She pulled out the water from her pack and threw it Grissom's way.

"This place must be really special if you were the one to volunteer such a long hike." She smirked knowingly.

"It is." He smiled simply. "I've been here once before."

"You have?"

He nodded, "Yes. During college I took a trip to this location—" He stopped himself from expanding, "But that's all I'll say. I don't want to give it away."

"I really thought I had you there." She laughed easily.

"Stay still." Grissom spoke seriously, causing Sara to freeze.

"What..." The apprehension in her voice was evident.

"Stay still, but look to your left. about three feet."

Sara glanced with her eyes to her left to see a large insect, the size of two fists. "What is that?"

"I believe it's an Elephant Beetle." Grissom took a few steps closer to the beetle, slowly, "They typically lay their larvae in large decaying logs."

"Oh." Sara slowly stood and grabbed her pack, realizing she was, in fact, sitting on a large decaying log.

"They're typically active at night. It's rare to spot one around this time of day." Grissom looked up to the sun, "What is it? Around five?"

Sara checked her watch, "Yeah, 5:30." She smiled as she watched him crouch down near the bug, "Lennon? Rebellious, yet eternally idealistic?"

Grissom smiled without looking up, remembering the Beatles joke she'd made all those years ago in San Fransisco when they'd first met. Her material hadn't changed much over time, but he liked that.

"Okay." He stood now wiping off his hands after having snapped a quick shot of the bug, "Let's keep going. We're very close."

Grissom and Sara threw their packs on their backs once more and continued on. Passing more bugs along the way that Grissom forced himself not to stop for. It would take them too long to get to their end destination should he keep stoping, he realized, and he wanted to make sure she could see the destination in the daylight.

"Look up." Sara spoke as she halted in her path. "Are those Monarch Butterflies?" She watched as the fluttered over head, weaving through the canopying trees.

"We're getting close." Grissom spoke without looking up, urging her to keep going.

"Oh, wow." Sara fell speechless as they approached large Oyamel trees completely covered in Monarch Butterflies. Grissom caught up to her and stood beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"It's called the Mountain of Butterflies." He spoke as she gazed in awe at the trees that looked alive with each flutter of the Butterflies' wings. "When I was a freshman in college, there was a team of zoologists from Canada who were trying to find the overwinter location of the Monarch Butterfly—Ken Brugger and Catalina Trail. They'd been search for near a decade at that point, and I joined the team of volunteers just at the tail end of the search. We found this location just a few months into me joining the team. I was 19 at the time—God, feels like forever ago." He looked at her now, watching as she took in the overwhelming site,

"They migrate here in mid October. But February and march is their mating season, so we came at a perfect time to see a lot of activity."

He smiled widely as she now turned to him.

"I have no words." She said simply, still in awe at the beautiful sight. The pair sat together and watched as the butterflies swirled through the air like autumn leaves. Sara took out the camera and snapped a few photos, trying her best to capture the spectacular sight, knowing full well that no photo could do this scene justice.


	50. Chapter 50

**May 2009**

Catherine walked briskly into the break room waving a while envelope in her hand. "We've got another one." She smiled from ear to ear and she pulled out a seat and joined her colleagues around the table.

"Alright, I'm out of here." Reilly spoke as she pushed her chair back.

"You don't have to leave." Greg looked up at his now standing co-worker.

She shrugged, "This is your thing. I barely even knew Grissom when he was here. And I've never met your beloved Sara." She was trying to mask her irritation with a light playful tone, but they all saw through it.

"Suit yourself." Greg spun back to look at Catherine. "Alright, open it."

By this point, the team had already received six other postcards from their former colleagues: Mexico, Argentina, two from Chile and two from Peru. But this letter was different. It wasn't a postcard, but instead a regular letter inside a normal envelope.

Catherine opened it and began to read to Langston, Nick and Greg:

 _Hello team!_

 _Our last stop across South America was in Paraguay. The culture and sights were unbelievable. We went through two hikes and traveled over 30 miles by canoe looking for indigenous insects (you can guess whose idea that was). At this time, we've traded in our broken Spanish and Portuguese to learn French as we've just arrived in Paris. While our trip across South America was unforgettable, we're happy to finally have consistent plumbing._

 _Grissom's been offered a temporary teaching position at the Sorbonne. Admittedly, his French is much better than mine but I'm still working on it. While he's teaching I'll be consulting with the Paris Criminal Investigation department—I guess even abroad Las Vegas is well known in the field for its extensive criminalistics capabilities and lab abilities._

 _Another plus about settling in Paris for a while is a consistent phone number. I've added ours below should anyone need to reach us._

 _Hope all is well,_

 _Sara and Grissom_

"So she's a CSI once more." Greg said a little cooly,

"Consulting." Catherine amended, knowing exactly what Greg was getting at.

"They sound like they're doing great." Nick smiled as he took another sip of coffee, "It's hard to believe Grissom's been gone for five months at this point. And Sara for even longer."

"Sara hasn't worked with us since May 2007." Greg lifted his brows, "Now _that_ is crazy. That whole ordeal was two years ago."

"Ordeal?" Langston had heard chatter around the lab about Sara and Grissom before, and he knew the circumstances under which Grissom had left, be he had never known Sara or her story. Nick took the liberty of giving him a somewhat brief description of the events that lead to her ultimate departure from Las Vegas.

"So let me get this straight." Langston readjusted himself in his seat, "Nick, you were buried alive: Greg was beaten by a mob: Catherine's father was murdered in front of her, your late colleague Warrick was killed by one of our own, and Sara was abducted." He furrowed his brows, "And you all still come into work each night."

The team laughed, realizing just how much they'd all been through together.

"I guess the only one missing from your list there was Grissom." Greg mused aloud.

"He had is fair share of guns pulled on him through the years." Nick offered.

"I never really got why he didn't carry. Especially with the wrap sheet Ray just compiled for us." Greg shot is coworker a playful smile.

* * *

Sara stood in the kitchen stirring the contents of a pot on the stove as Grissom walked into their apartment. They'd easily found a little place on a quiet part of town in the outskirts of paris. One with hardwood floors, a small patio area with double doors leading to it. Sara had a small garden growing out there with fresh tomatoes, basil and mint.

"Hello, Dear." Grissom spoke as he dropped his brief case and made his way to the kitchen, kissing her on the cheek. "Whatever you're cooking smells amazing." She smiled up at him and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

"How was the first day?"

"Incredible. You'll have to come by some time and meet the other professors. The students are a little greener than I expected, but it gives me a chance to re-learn how to teach the basics."

"Have you seen Pierre?"

"I have. He and Melanie would like to have us over for dinner next week." Sara laughed at this for some reason, "What?" He cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Nothing—nothing. It's just... so normal."

His thin lips turned up a bit, "How so?"

"Could you imagine us doing this while in Vegas?"

"No." He agreed readily, "But I think I like it."

"Me too." She smiled again, thinking to how far they'd come in distance, in their relationship, emotionally.

A short while later the two sat on their balcony and enjoyed the simple meal Sara cooked with red wine.

"You begin consulting tomorrow, yes?"

"I do." She sipped at her wine.

"I was a little surprised when you told me that you were pursuing that here."

"I know." She admitted, "It's a good step to get my feet wet again. When we eventually go back to Vegas, It seems reasonable for me to go that path again." She watched as confusion filled his eyes. "You don't want to go back to Vegas?"

"I didn't say that." He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly, "I just didn't realize that was where your head was."

There was a moment of somewhat awkward silence before she responded, "What _do_ you want?"

"I don't know." He spoke honestly, "I just never pictured us back there."

"Your mother's there. Our family is there."

"The team?"

"Yeah."

"Sara..." His voice trailed hesitantly. "Are you still writing them letters?"

"I am...Why?"

"It's just... there's no reason to hang onto the past."

"They don't have to be our past, Gil."

"Okay, okay. I just—I guess I'm just caught off guard here."

She nodded slowly, "This isn't anything we have to think of now. You're teaching position runs through August. When it's time to think of next steps, we will."

"Okay." He agreed, but he suddenly had a awful pit in his stomach about the whole thing and he wasn't quite sure why.

* * *

 **August 2009**

"Sara?" Grissom called as he entered the apartment.

"In here." Sara called back from the bathroom as she towel dried her hair. He walked in and kissed her lips.

"The grant application status has been updated to In-Process." He glowed.

"Great! But you know—It could take months for it to be approved even from this stage."

"I know." He nodded as he trailed kissing along her still wet neck. "That's why in the meantime, I've taken up another semester teaching at the Sorbonne."

She quickly turned to him, brows furrowed, "You did?"

"I did." He said excitedly, causing her to soften. He loved having students again, loved being a professor. She didn't want to take that away from him, but she wasn't convinced that she wanted to spend the next potentially six months in France as they awaited the fate of the research grant to come through.

She sucked in a sharp breath has his kissing trailed behind her ear, to her shoulder, working his way downward. She quickly abandoned her thoughts as they moved to the bedroom.

* * *

They laid in bed together, breathing still ragged as he kissed her forehead, wiping wisps of hair out of her face.

"What?" She pursed her lips looking at him, noticing an out of place goofy smile filling his features.

"One of my students, Alexander, had to bring his child to class today."

"Was that disruptive?"

"No, no. She was very polite. About three years old. Just sat in front by me and colored the whole time."

"Oh." Sara was confused as to the point of the story until Grissom continued,

"She was very cute. Her name is Viola. She loves butterflies actually. She drew me about a dozen of them."

Sara nodded slowly, "You have fun babysitting?" She teased.

"Yeah, actually... I did."

Sara's face lost a bit of color, realizing just what he was getting at.

"Gil..."

"I know, you don't want kids."

"No, I just—I thought we decided it wasn't for us."

"I know, but that conversation was years ago now. And well. I think I'm open to the idea."

She nodded slowly, trying to process the information. "I need to think about this."

He simply kissed her forehead in reply, left the bed and turned on the shower water. Sara breathed in deeply, a hard lump forming in her throat as she did. Somehow this was all too much. While she loved Grissom, and the idea of having a child with him was in fact exciting: picturing a little boy or girl with his blue eyes and love for science and her brown hair and love of animals warmed her heart. But a large part of her thought it to be a terrible idea: She thought to her childhood, knowing she had not mother figure to model herself after, and he no father figure given his father passed when he was just nine. The latter feeling seemed to be winning out.

Weeks passed, and the topic wasn't brought up again.

* * *

 **September 2009**

Months had passed now and both Grissom and Sara had grown accustom to their new lifestyle. While Grissom continued with his professorship and lectures, Sara spent three days a week with the Paris CSI team. She continued to learn french and volunteered the rest of her time at both animal shelters and shelters for women and children of domestic violence. Her days felt fulfilled, but something was still missing and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Then one day the phone rang.

"Bonjour, ceci est Sara"

"Hi, Sara?"

"Yes, this is she. " She switched to english quickly.

"Hey. It's uh—It's Conrad. Ecklie."

"Ecklie." She laughed softly, "What a surprise. How are you?"

"I'm well. You sound well. How's Parisian life?"

"Wonderful." She paused momentarily, "What can I do for you."

"Well I was actually calling to speak with Grissom. But this is the only number we have. Cath gave it to me from the last letter you sent them. But, uh—well actually, maybe you can help me out. We're looking for recommendations for a CSI hire. Grave just lost another."

"Who? What happened?" Panic suddenly filled her tone.

"No, no. She quit. Sorry."

"Oh." Relief washed over her.

"Anyway, I know its a shot in the dark but we're really struggling to fill in qualified spots here. And we need someone as soon as possible."

Sara thought a moment. She'd always felt guilty about the way she'd left the team, especially the second time she'd left Vegas. Grave lost her, then Warrick and finally Grissom all within a little over a year. She wanted to right that wrong.

"I have an idea." She began somewhat tentatively, "Why don't I come back temporarily to fill in the gap while you look for replacement."

"Are you sure, Sara?"

"Yes." She spoke more confidently now. "Just for a few months." She amended.

"That would be great, Sara. Really. I'll uh—I'll make arrangements. How soon can you be here."

"Two days okay?"

"Perfect. See you soon."


	51. Chapter 51

"I don't understand why you're so eager to go back, Sara."

"They need the help." She spoke as she continued to pack her suitcase, "I feel responsible." She added, but there was more to it an they both knew it. She turned to face him as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her walk back and forth from the dresser to her suitcase. "It's only for a few months until they find someone else." She smile sadly, "They're really hurting."

Grissom sighed softly, "I'm going to miss you."

Sara smiled at this and walked to him, leaning down and kissing his lips gently, "It wont be for long."

"Alright." He stood and moved to leave the room, returning a moment later with something in his hand. "Keys to the condo." He offered as he handed them to her.

"You didn't sell it when you left?"

He simply shook his head in return, "Market was doing well at the time and I didn't know our future plans."

She nodded, thinking back to the conversation they had on the balcony a few months prior when he voiced his distaste for the idea of returning to Vegas now. _Perhaps that wasn't always his feeling_ , she thought. _Perhaps he could change his mind back._

"It'll be weird to stay there without you or Hank." She thought aloud. Grissom placed a gently hand on her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear and looking deep into her eyes. She could sense the worry in his own.

"You're sure?"

"I am." She said softly but confidently. "I think I need to do this for me too, not just the team. I think I need to prove to myself that I truly am better. All of me, not just the part of me that ran away."

"Okay." He conceded.

The next day came a bit too quickly for Grissom as he rode along with her in the taxi to the airport. He reached out and held her hand in his, squeezing gently. The cab driver pulled into the departures lane and helped Sara with her bags from the trunk.

The two walked to the security line as Sara turned to him, "This is as far as they'll let you go." She spoke the obvious, feeling him not want to let go of her hand.

"Be safe, Sara." His features were etched with worry.

"I will, Gil. Please don't worry. I'll be fine."

"I believe you. But I can't help it." He smiled through his worry and kissed her lips gently.

"I'll be back in two weeks. Ecklie pre approved four days of time off so I could book a return flight."

"Good." He paused momentarily, "Tell the team I say hello."

"I will." She leaned in now, closing the remaining space between them and kissed him deeply. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon." He echoed and watched her walk through the security line.

* * *

Sara walked through the familiar hallways for the first time in a long time. She could feel the difference in herself as she did. Judy quickly exclaimed her name at the sight of her, welcoming her back with a warm gesture and glowing grin.

"They're all in the break room." She smiled.

Sara made her way through the halls to the break room, peaking into the transparent labs as she did, seeing some new faces in lab coats. Then she heard the familiar voices she was looking for.

"Nobody in the lab should be talking to anybody in the media about an open investigation! Let alone one of this profile!" The voice was a little distant be she could detect Ecklie's furry as she turned the corner.

"Hey! Take it easy, Ecklie. I'm sure _she's_ not the leak." And there was good 'ol Nick..

"I can defend myself."

"This is a discipline problem, Catherine. Just get a grip on your people. I'm beginning to think Reilly was right about you."

"What is that supposed to mean!?"

"You didn't read her exit interview? I put it on your desk. Just read it." Ecklie spun around to leave passing right past Sara, his anger not letting him be able to register her presence.

"Uh.. Hi. Guys. This a bad time?" She smiled widely as she took in the familiar faces.

"Sara!?" Nick exclaimed "Sara! What are you doing here!?" He took two large strides toward her and wrapped her in a hug.

"Ecklie said you guys could use some help."

"Sara, you don't know how relieved I am to see you. I thought he was going to stick us with another level 1 to train." She turned to Ray, "Sara, this is Ray. Grissom brought him on just before leaving."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Sara."

"Likewise." She smiled, unable to wipe the grin off her face.

One by one they each left the break room, needed to tend to the case at hand.

Greg walked down the hall, hearing the familiar voice he quickly let his feet bring him closer to it.

"Sara!" She spun to see him just in time for him to wrap her in a tight hug, "What are you doing here?" He gushed, unable to contain his excitement at seeing her, "You tired of being happy and married?" He teased.

"No..." She smiled widely letting her voice trail a bit, "Grissom is guest lecturing at the Sorbonne while we're waiting for our research grant to get funded and Ecklie called said the team was down a man, wondered if I could recommend anyone. And, you know, as much as I love Paris—and my French is actually getting pretty good—I realized I missed you guys."

"Well, we missed you too."

"So, how's the world treating you?"

"Well you know, still being treated like the lab tech with the crazy hair." He joked easily, "How long will you be here for?"

"Probably a few months. Just until we can find the team a suitable replacement."

Greg nodded knowingly, "It's really good to see you, Sara. You seem really well."

"Thanks, Greggo. I feel good. The time off helped a lot."

Greg's phone buzzed causing him to look that the screen, "I've got to get going here but I want to hear all about your travels. Drinks later?"

"You got it."

"Sara." She turned now to see Ecklie approach. "Welcome back."

"Good to be back." She smiled.

"Let's get you set up with equipment." Sara walked with Ecklie over to processing to retrieve her department issued gun, badge and ID.

"Grissom or Sidle?" Ecklie spoke quickly.

"Excuse me?"

He looked back at her as he signed off on her paper work, "For your name tag—you know on your vest."

"Oh." She hadn't really thought of that. "Sidle." She decided, "It would fee weird to wear Grissom around here." She shrugged, but Ecklie didn't seem interested in teh second half of her answer.

"Alright, Sidle." He handed her her gun, badge, ID and now vest, "You're all processed in. Welcome back for real."

* * *

Sara followed Catherine through the lab halls giving her an updated on the case and her findings as the approached the locker room. Catherine walked in and opened her locker sighing as Sara asked "What's next?"

"Look, Sara—I know you walked into some fireworks in the break room."

"What? Ecklie?" Sara laughed and waved off the comment.

"No, I just read Reilly's exit interview. She had some harsh things to say about my leadership. That the team's fractured. That it lacks cohesion because of me—because of my managerial style." Catherine took a seat on the bench and looked up at Sara, "I don't know. I admit it. I admit that things are different since Grissom left."

"Well, It's like when a great baseball team looses their clean-up hitter. Everyone is swinging for the fences and no one is playing small ball."

Catherine raised her brows, a small smirk lifted her otherwise grimaced lips, "You're using a baseball analogy."

Sara breathed in deeply, "Apparently, part of being married is attempting to share in your spouses interests."

Catherine laughed at this, "Okay. It's a weird side of you."

"I know." She smiled easily, "Look you still have a lot of great players, and some new talent. Maybe... you just need to reshuffle your line up."

"English please?"

"You are a great CSI, Catherine. And you know how to manage your team. The only thing that Grissom had, that you don't" She watched as Catherine braced herself to hear another flaw, "—is you." A smile slowly formed on Catherine's face, it was exactly what she needed to hear.

She breathed in deeply, "Have I mentioned how great it is to have you back?"

Sara laughed softly, "It feels good to be back, honestly. I didn't think it would."

"How's Grissom?"

"He's good. He's really good. The sunshine suits him."

"It suits you too, Sara. You look well."

"Thanks." She smiled and then gestured with her head toward the door, "Now lets go wrap this case."

* * *

"Before I say anything else, Just know that I'm completely fine."

"Sara." Grissom sighed on the phone, "What happened."

"Nick and I were in a shootout with a group who came through the lab to steal evidence."

"On your first day back? Really." She could hear the disbelief in his voice, "What part of stay safe didn't you get?" He joked and she laughed on the other end.

"A few lab techs were injured but nothing serious. Everyone's fine." She reassured him. Grissom smiled, it had only been a little over 24 hours since he'd dropped her at the airport and he already missed her terribly.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you!" She exclaimed excitedly, "Nick and Greg found Stevie!"

"Stevie!? Really. Wow, I lost him years ago."

"I know, I remember the small panic of 2005." She smiled against the phone as they continued their conversation easily. For two people historically terrible at communication, day one of long distance marriage seemed to be going well.


	52. Chapter 52

Sara found his eyes within the crowds of people, locking her own to his. Suddenly the fatigue and exhaustion that came with a double shift and long flight dissipated. He made his way toward her and didn't hesitate before enfolding her in his arms, taking in her sent while nuzzling his nose into her soft hair. She could feel him exhale against her.

"God how I've missed you." She breathed.

"It's only been two weeks." He teased as he pulled back to look into her face, then gently kissed her lips, "But I know." He smiled, showing her that he too, had missed her. He reached for her bag, taking it from her and carrying it as he escorted her out of the airport to the taxi line.

"You really didn't need to come all this way to pick me up."

"Nonsense." He spoke as he slid into the cab beside her and gave the address to the apartment in the next breath.

Shortly after they arrived back in the apartment as Grissom keyed the door open. She walked in and dropped her carryon to the floor. The sun was shinning bright through the double doors that lead to the small balcony. A wonderful aroma filling the air.

"I made dinner before leaving to get you." He started as he made his way back to the kitchen, stirring something on the stove and turning the stover burner back on. A moment later he felt her come up behind him, pressing her body to his own, sliding her hands around his waist. "You must be hungry."

"Looks delicious, thank you—" She spoke as she slid her hands from his waist, up his back, and to his shoulders where she began to message him slowly.

"When's the last time you ate dear?" He asked as he turned around to face her.

She simply shrugged in return, "On the plane."

"Peanuts and crackers don't count." He scolded softly.

She placed her palms flat down against his chest and moved them upward so that her fingers laced together behind his neck.

"You should eat." He tried again.

"Yes, dear." She teased. He looked down at her with his best 'I'm serious, Sara' look that he often gave when it came to her health and physical and mental well being.

"I'm hungry for something a little different at the moment." She spoke as she traced her fingers down his chest to his waist, moving them around to his back and then slowly slipping them beneath his jeans. She pulled him flesh against her and kissed him deeply until she felt a small moan escape him.

As much as he tried to seem as if he was above men who had little to no self control when it came to sex—he wasn't. He gave in at the slightest touch from her and she knew it. She reached behind him and turned off the stove and looked up at him with a pursed lipped smile. His eyes softened at the sight of her.

He let her lead him back down the hall to the bedroom, articles of clothing left in a heaped trail along the way. He laid her down on the bed and hovered over her, gently sweeping a lock of hair away from her face to get a better look at her, staring deep into her darkening brown orbs. He desperately wanted her—it was written all over his eyes, and he knew she knew it.

He kissed her neck, her collar bone, trailing down further and further. He could feel her breathing quicken with anticipation, her chest heaving. His hands held either side of her hips, creating pressure as he trailed his kisses back up toward her chest.

"Gil..." She breathed breathlessly as he looked up at her with his boyish, innocent grin. His breath on her skin made her squirm beneath him, closing her eyes and opening her mouth in pleasure. Her hands entangled his scalp as he moved to enter. She arched her back in pleasure as a sharp gasp left her throat. She always did that, each and every time. That noise did something to him that he couldn't fathom describing. They moved in unison, grasping onto each other tightly, desperately.

Her hands roamed quickly, trying to take in every inch of him, feeling his beard tickling her cheek. She looked deep into his dark blue eyes as his look intensified. She could feel him on the verge, feel his weight change. And then release. She kissed him deeply as he did, feeling his body quivery against her.

"I love you, Gil." She whispered into his ear as he fell to the bed beside her breathlessly. She moved to nuzzle her head deep within his shoulder.

"I've missed you so much, Sara." He breathed out as his hand moved up to hold her head there against his chest, running his fingers through her hair.

She nodded against him silently.

"Stay Sara." He blurted mindlessly.

"I can't Gil..." She sighed, "They need someone —but besides that—I think I need this too. I'm better now, stronger, and I need to make up for all the time that I was so weak there."

"Maybe I should come back with you." His speech was hesitant, she could hear it in his voice.

"You don't want to be back in Vegas right now, I know that—"

"I want to be near you more than I don't want to be in Vegas."

"It's only temporary. Just until they can find two more people to take our places." She lifted her head to look into his eyes, " It's only for a little longer, and then we can be like this everyday." She laced her fingers through his.

"And you're doing okay down there?"

"You trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Then trust that I am truly fine." She trace a finger over his jawline.

He gave her a small smile. "Okay."

"And, after you're done with this next semester, and hopefully the research grant comes through... we can be spending our days in northern France."

"That would be nice." He smiled again, watching her closely, taken in each image of her.

"And who knows after that, there are so many possibilities, Gil. So much we can do."

"Speaking of that." He sat up a bit now, clearing his throat nervously, "Have you given any more thought to that um... to what we were talking about a few weeks ago."

"Oh, that." She softened. "I just don't know."

"Can you tell me your hesitations?" He questioned watching as she diverted her eyes from his, staring down at her fidgeting fingers.

"I just never pictured myself in that role. I wouldn't know the first thing about that. And with my past—I just, I worry I wouldn't be any good at it."

"I've never known you to not be good at something, Sara." He tried and was rewarded with a soft smile.

"That and, well, Schizophrenia is genetic."

"So is Otosclerosis," He counted, "But we can get tested for those things."

She nodded slowly but stayed silent for a moment before questioning, "Where is this all coming from? What made you suddenly want children?" She asked honestly, with no hidden agenda to her words.

"The full human experience."

"Excuse me?"

"Sara, before you came into my life, all I thought I needed was books and science. I was completely content living vicariously through the people I worked with, never having to experience life for myself. You've helped me live, truly live. And well—I think having a child with you would give us the full human experience."

Sara softened, a smiling beginning to tug at the corners of her lips, "I've never thought of it like that..." Her voice trailed off for a moment as she thought. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded still hesitantly, "Okay. Let's do it."

Grissom wrapped her in a tight embrace and kissed her deeply. He could feel her laugh against her lips as she broke the kiss, "Well not right now!" Her laughter began to soften as she looked into his light eyes, "After our research grant is completed."

"So next year."

"Next year it is." She laughed a bit more in disbelief.

A little while later they sat across the table from each other sharing the meal Grissom had made, paired with a glass of red wine. Sara lifted hers in a gesture of a toast, Grissom followed,

"To the full human experience."

She watched as Grissom's eyes glowed in excitement, "To the full human experience." He repeated and clinked their glasses together.


	53. Chapter 53

**November 2009**

Sara sat with her team in the bowling alley, laughing along and taking swigs of her beer. She smiled against the phone as she talked to langston, checking on his status as she threw her ball down the lane, turning before she saw its outcome. Spare.

Nick and Greg bowled strikes.

There was joking and laughing, clinking of beers and high fives. Sara felt good. She was surrounded by her team, her family, the people she loved. Finally letting loose for a change rather than pulling another double. she took a seat and watched as Doc. Robbins bowled. Clapping along in encouragement when her phone buzzed again, She didn't even look at the caller ID—something she rarely did.

"Ray where'd you go?"

"Hi, It's me."

"Gil?" Sara stood quickly and walked a little ways away from the team. "It's nearly 2 a.m. by you. Is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah. I'm fine. What are you up to?" He spoke casually.

"Actually, I'm out bowling with the team and some of the lab." She paused briefly, "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Can you step outside to talk for a moment?"

"Yeah, sure. Give me one second." Sara's feet quickly took her to exit the bowling alley, feeling a terrible pit in her stomach that something must be wrong. It had been two months since they'd last seen each other, and while they did talk on the phone at least every other day, he'd never call out of the blue like this—especially not at 2 a.m. his time.

"Okay, I'm outside." She spoke, "Gil, what is it?"

"Turn around."

"Excuse me?"

"Just do it." Suddenly she realized the voice on the other end seemed to echo. She spun on her heels and registered a figure several feet away from her. Walking toward her.

"Hi." He spoke closing his phone and placing it back in his pocket.

"Gil!?" She rushed toward him and into his arms.

"Hi dear."

"Gil! What are you doing here?"

"Fall break. The university is closed for a week. I thought I'd come and surprise you."

Her hands now on either side of his face, playing with his soft curls and rubbing gentle circles into his cheek. She then pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. Breaking the kiss, Grissom pressed his forehead against hers.

"Hey!" A voice yelled from the building, causing both to turn in its direction, "Hey! You can't take those shoes with you!" Sara looked down to see she was still wearing the rented bowling shoes.

"I'll be right back in." She called back. The figure at the door stood there with his arms crossed angrily.

"Any chance your up for seeing the team?"

Grissom thought for a moment. He really hadn't planned on it, the though gave him a small amount of anxiety. It had been so long since he'd seen everyone, and the last time he did, well he wasn't quite himself.

"Okay." He agreed hesitantly. The two walked back into the building, passing the man with crossed arms.

"You aren't supposed to take the shoes off property." He scolded.

Greg was the first to spot them, spinning around after bowling a strike . His face dropped and Catherine turned around to see what Greg's ghostly face was staring at. At that moment, Catherine's expressions quickly mimicked Greg's. Grissom and Sara continued to walk toward them.

"Boss!" Greg exclaimed, moving toward him and wrapping both arms around him. Grissom was passed around each team member, being wrapped in tight arms, late congratulations on the marriage and "I've missed you's."

"I feel like I've just seen a ghost." Catherine laughed hugging her good friend. "This is quite a surprise." She shot a somewhat stern look at Sara who subsequently through her hands up to prove innocence,

"I was just as surprised." She laughed.

The team sat together and shared a few drinks, reminiscing over old cases, recent milestones, catching up for lost time. Eventually the team began to filter out one by one until only Nick, Catherine, Greg, Sara and Grissom were left.

"Do you ever miss it?" Greg asked Grissom once sara left to go close out her tab. "The puzzles, the thrill of the chase?"

Grissom smiled softly, "No." he spoke simply, "Not anymore."

"So you're not planning to make a miraculous return to CSI like Sara?" Greg asked somewhat hopeful.

"Don't hold your breath, Greg." Catherine jumped in. "So," She turned to Grissom, "What's the status of this research grant you two are waiting on?"

"This in process. It could be another six months before we find out if it'll go through."

"Sweet." Greg smiled, getting curious looks from his co-workers, "What? I don't want Sara to leave again."

Grissom nodded in small notions before looking back to see Sara signing the check. It was like as if he'd blinked and suddenly life in Vegas was back to the way it was three years ago, before anyone had dreamt up the miniature killer—as if everyone was back to normal, and he was the one left behind, on the outside. He watched her as she walked back, pushing a stray hair behind her ear as she gave him a suggestive look.

"I think we'd better be headed out." She spoke toward the team giving them a small wave. Grissom stood and made promises of coffee or breakfast before leaving to head back to Paris.

Catherine stood and gave Sara a side hug as she walked her toward the exit, "Take a few days off."

"Catherine, that's okay—"

"We've got you covered, Sara. Go spend some time with your husband." She grinned and Sara nodded.

"Thanks, Cath."

Grissom and sara made their way to her car. He slipped into the passenger seat of her car and watched as the familiar landmarks and roads passed by them.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" She glanced his way smiling.

"No, dear." He spoke tiredly.

"You must be exhausted."

"I am." He nodded and leaned his head back against the passenger seat head rest while extending his arm out and placing a gentle touch to her thigh.

* * *

Sara finished getting washed up and walked into the bedroom to find Grissom sound asleep. She quietly turned off the lights and slipped into bed beside him, curling herself around his body, resting her head on his warm, bare chest. She breathed in deeply, taking in his scent, his presence. Feeling his weight around her. Her mind couldn't seem to quiet. She was so happy to have him there with her, so content. It felt so normal for them to be in Vegas together—something she realized she hadn't been able to really feel since 2007.

She listened to the sound of his steady breath in her ear. Feeling his chest rise and fall rhythmically.

Her mind began to think to the conversation they'd had two months ago when they'd last seen each other. About the full human experience. She smiled at the phrase, it having been very Grissom-like to frame it that way.

 _Where would they raise a child?_ She wondered, _Vegas? Paris? Some remote village where'd they'd spend their days conducting research?_ The latter made her smile, the latter felt most right. _Maybe they didn't have to wait until after the research grant is done._ She mused. Their research in northern France—should they be approved—could last for a year or more. She breathed in deeply, coming to terms with the idea of having a child.

The idea of having a child was nerve-racking, terrifying, unpleasant even. But the idea of having a child with Grissom was exhilarating, exciting, filled her heart. These two competing thoughts gave her much dilemma. She turned to look at his rested, sleeping face and it all dissipated. She knew right then, that as long as she had Grissom, everything would be alright.

* * *

Sara stirred awake to the feeling of light, feathery kissing being trailed up her neck. Her eyes began to flutter opened, the haze of sleep beginning to fade.

"Mmm. Good morning," She smiled softly as his face came into focus.

"Good morning." He continued to trail light kisses along her neck, her collar bone, her shoulders. "I made breakfast."

The time difference between Vegas and Paris turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Her grave shift schedule ended up perfectly aligning with his schedule.

"You did?" She played, sitting up a bit.

"Just eggs and fruit. You know you have nothing in that fridge?" He scolded, "Old habits die hard?" He mused.

"You know how it goes."

The two made their way to the kitchen and sat across the island from one another as they shared the simple breakfast he made. Grissom began to fill her in on his lecture seminar, on the side research project he'd started with Pierre, on the university in general. Sara told Grissom about some of the more interesting cases she'd been working, on late night drinks with Greg and Nick, on how Catherine's daughter had grown.

Grissom took a look around the loft, not much had changed except the boxes piled high of thing that were in his office. Sara caught him looking at them.

"We could unpack them today if you'd like? No sense in just letting your stuff sit there."

He nodded, "I'd like that. I've been trying to find a specific book on epigenetics that I haven't been able to locate. Perhaps its among one of these boxes." He paused hesitantly, "Would you have any interest in visiting my mother?"

"Betty?" She spoke as if she needed clarification, "Is she in town?"

"No, but it's only a four hour drive to Santa Monic. I realized this morning that I haven't seen her since we saw her together at Gilbert University."

"Of course. I just have to clear the time with Catherine—"

"She actually called this morning."

"Catherine?" Sara furrowed her brows.

"She wants to make sure you don't come in this week."

Sara laughed softly, "Typically Catherine." She smiled, "Lets go tomorrow."

Grissom flashed her a boyish grin, "Okay."


	54. Chapter 54

The ride to Santa Monica was a fairly easy one. Grissom and Sara had left early in the morning to make it there before noon. Grissom drove the second half of the trip, knowing the quirky neighborhood well enough to navigate through. They passed through the white picket fences of the small fishing village as Sara gazed out the window.

"So this is the neighborhood you grew up in?" She spoke a bit absently, taking in the sights.

"Yes. My mother still lives in the same house she raised me in." He spoke as he turned another corner.

"That must be nice. To have your childhood home to go back to."

"I suppose." He paused briefly, "I was never one to get too sentimental on those things." He glanced her way, knowing full well that she had no childhood home to speak of, "I actually haven't even been up to my childhood bedroom in over thirty years I think."

Sara just nodded silently, continuing to look out the window. Large sailboats filling the horizon to the left followed by beachy shores.

"I can't really imagine you living near a beach." She mused aloud, "Laying out in a swim suit as a kid."

"I loved living near the ocean. Actually, when I was young I would walk up and down the shore to find dead seagulls and wild life. Then bring them home and perform necropsies."

Sara let out a throaty laugh, "Now that's more of an image I can obtain." She smiled widely, glancing his way as he pulled into a drive way.

"Here we are."

Sara took in the sight of the small cottage looking home fitted with a white picket fence and garden. They made their way to the front door where Grissom hit a doorbell like button.

"The bell creates vibrations along the floorboards, letting her know someone is at the door." He explained. Just a few moments later the door opened and Betty emerged, quickly moving to hug her son.

"Sara!" She signed quickly with excitement, "Please come in."

The two took their shoes off as Betty continued to sign, "I was so excited to receive your email yesterday, Gil. Come, I've made lunch." Betty showed them to the dinning room table where she'd prepared sandwiches and vegetable sides.

"This looks lovely, Thank you." Sara spoke and gestured in broken sign. She'd been working to learn more, but hadn't quite gotten there yet. Grissom continued to act as an interpreter.

"I want to hear all about Paris." She signed before pouring ice water in each of their glasses.

"It's been wonderful. I understand why dad had such a passion for teaching now." Grissom answered by signing and speaking aloud at the same time so Sara could participate in the conversation as well.

"That's wonderful. And Sara, you're still consulting?"

"Oh no, no. I'm actually in Vegas for a little while, helping out the team here." She glanced toward Grissom who was relaying the message to his mother. She watched as Betty Grimaced.

"It's just until they can find a suitable replacement." Grissom added, "Only a few months or so."

"An interesting way to start a marriage."

"Mom... please."

Betty threw her hands up in a symbol of conceding. Grissom quickly steered the conversation elsewhere to discuss the research grant they were waiting on from the French Government and the team they'd assembled for it. From there the conversation stayed fairly light and cheerful. Everyone once in a while Sara would glance around to look at her surroundings, taking in the images of his childhood home. The dining room was just off the living room, giving her a full view to the wall to wall bookshelves full of texts on art history, botany, entomology and classic novels. She knew Grissom gained his love of books from his mother, and now she could see how.

She looked at how the couch was set up parallel to the television set. Picturing a very young Gil sitting close to the television while his father took a nap on the couch behind him. She could see the scene playing out, as Betty came over with a glass of lemonade, suddenly not able to wake him up.

"Sara." She quickly turned her attention back to the conversation, realizing she had tuned out for a few moments. "My mother was wondering if you've had a chance to see your family since coming back to the states." he smiled softly, "The crow family."

"No, unfortunately. I haven't had a chance to make my way out there quite yet."

"You know, we did pack overnight bags. Maybe we can take a flight up there today, stay the night and fly back here tomorrow to drive to Vegas."

"That's a little much, no?"

"I don't think so, lets look at flights after lunch."

"Okay." Sara smiled at Grissom's sudden spontaneous attitude. Something he must have acquired in his new French lifestyle. Grissom had become very accustom to the lifestyle there, seeing quickly that his workaholic tendencies were frowned upon at the university.

Sara helped Betty clear the table and clean the dishes once lunch was through. She smiled politely as she did, not really sure what to say or how to really communicate with their hands preoccupied. Once through, Sara looked around for Grissom. Not finding him on the first floor she tentatively walked upstairs.

"Gil?"

"In here." He spoke softly, having Sara follow his voice to a room to the left of the top of the stairs.

She peaked in, "Hey."

"Hey." He didn't look up. Sara walked in realizing that this was his childhood bedroom. It looked to be exactly the same as the day he left, Betty obviously hadn't touched a thing. She looked around for a moment, seeing a twin sized bed with a blue and gray comforter, a desk covered in textbooks adjacent to it. The walls were covered in shelves that held various rocks, science projects, science kits and textbooks. Sara smiled as she picked up a chemistry kit for kids.

"Did you get one of these for Lindsey once?"

He looked up to see what she was holding and smiled, "Yeah, Nick got her the same one too." He laughed softly.

Sara sat on the edge of the bed next to Grissom now, peering over his shoulder to see what he was reading.

"After my father died, everyone gave me presents to make me feel better—mostly books. This one was from his teachers assistant at the university. She'd come by everyone once in a while to check on us, also wielding another book for me." He shrugged, "I haven't thought about this book in a long time."

Grissom closed the book and wiped off some dust from its cover, revealing an original copy of Sherlock Holmes. Sara smiled, knowing that as a young boy Grissom was infatuated with the stories.

"I spoke with the Dave. They'd love to have us over. Harry's actually back for Fall break too."

"Good. Because I already booked our flight. It takes off in two hours."

Sara shook her head with a baffled smile, "We better go then."

Grissom and Sara made their way back downstairs to tell Betty of their plans. Sara watched as Betty signed something very quickly to Grissom. Too quickly for her to really pick up on. The only signs she could make out were _time_ or _when;_ _together; living; child—_ or maybe it was children. She watched Grissom quickly respond, catching phrases like _discussed; considered._ She was able to make out his last sentence clearly though: _Not in a rush._

Betty's face scrunched in dismay but the only words she could pick up were _at her age._ She sighed internally, knowing full well what they were discussing and why their motions were so quick—in hopes Sara couldn't follow along.

Grissom took Betty's hands in his, effectively silencing her before signing; _When we're ready._ She nodded and hugged her son, then said her goodbyes.

The drive to the airport was rather silent. Sara wasn't sure what to say or if she should really say anything at all on what she'd "overheard." She decided against in, there wasn't much she could add to that conversation. She knew they were on the same page for the most part and knew that Grissom was doing his best to curb his mother's expectations. But still, Betty's words stuck with her _at her age_. It was a valid point. She was 38 now, being a scientist Sara new the risks of pregnancy at this age. There were a few, of course, but not as many as if she'd wait until after 40. She quickly shook the thought from her head, not wanting a biological time clock to force her into a rash decisions.

They landed close to 6 p.m. and with only carry on baggage, made their way straight to the taxi line.

"Do you mind if I visit my my mother while we're here? I realize I haven't seen or spoken to her in close to a year and a half."

"Of course." Grissom readjusted his bag awkwardly, "Can I come?"

"Oh." Sara hadn't even thought of the idea, having just assumed he'd find something to keep himself busy in the meantime, "Yeah, okay."

"I don't have to." He quickly amended. "But I know you said she's doing well, she lucid... It's be nice to finally meet her."

Sara nodded, "Yeah, that'd be nice." They got into the cab and Sara gave the address for the facility her mother lived in. The facility was in the outskirts of San Fransisco, about 45 min east—closer to Modesto.

They arrived at the building and paid the cabbie. It was an average looking building with a few trees planted around its perimeter.

"Hi, We're here to visit Laura Sidle." Sara spoke to the receptionist at the front of the building.

"That's wonderful. Mrs. Sidle doesn't get too many visitors." The younger woman spoke as she flipped through some papers, "She's in group therapy now, but she'll be done in about fifteen or so minutes. Would you like to wait in the reck hall?"

"Sure, that's fine."

The receptionist stood to take them to the room, "In the future, please call ahead, surprise visits can cause some commotion as I'm sure you understand."

Sara nodded silently, feeling guilty about what the woman had said about how few visitors Laura received. Grissom and Sara sat down at a round table. He put a comforting hand on her thigh, "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah—I'm fine."

Grissom then pulled out a piece of paper from his back pocket and grabbed a pencil from the basket on the table.

"Have you been carrying that around all week?" Sara laughed looking at the Sunday crossword puzzle he'd just placed on the table.

"Yeah." Grissom spoke as if there were absolutely nothing curious about that. She watched as he filed in the next few words of the puzzle. Then watched as he tapped the eraser of the pencil to the table as he thought about the next line item.

"Circumspect."

"Excuse me?"

"14 Down." She clarified, "Circumspect." Sara watched as Grissom looked up at her with a boyish grin and then back down to the puzzle, before filing in the word.

"Ah yes, circumspect."

"Sara?" Laura's voice caused the two to look up, "Sara."

Sara stood now and embraced her mother, "Hi mom."

"Well this is a wonderful surprise." Laura pulled back and looked at her daughters face, putting a had on her cheek, "You look well." Grissom now stood watching the two women interact.

"Mom, this is Gil" Laura refocused her attention on the man now standing beside her daughter, "My husband."

"Husband?" Laura's face scrunched in bafflement, "You married?"

"It's nice to finally meet you." Grissom stuck out his hand but Laura moved in for a hug instead, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"My goodness!" She exclaimed as the three took a seat at the round table. She shook her head softly, "I never thought I'd see the day." She smiled looking at the two of them. "You know, Dave was here just a few months ago, he didn't mention it."

"He probably didn't want to spoil the news incase I hadn't told you yet..." He voice trailed off as she furrowed her brows, "Dave still comes to visit?"

"Two or three times a year." Laura confirmed and Sara sighed internally, knowing full well that he did it to make up for Sara's absence even after all these years. "He did tell me you moved to Paris. How exciting."

"Oh, I've actually since moved back to Vegas for a little while. Gil is still in Paris though."

"I see. That must be hard."

"We're managing." Gil smiled.

The three continued a pleasant conversation as Laura asked many questions of Gil to get to know him better.

"I hate to be presumptuous here but, do you think you two will have children?"

"Mom—"

"I know, I'm sorry. I just—I wanted to know that if you decided not to, that your childhood wouldn't be to blame for that." Laura looked down at her fidgeting fingers. Grissom smiled, recognizing the mannerism he knew all to well from Sara when a conversation turned too tough or awkward for her to make eye contact.

"When you were little you would line up all of your dolls and get them ready for school each morning. You and your father would spend hours teaching to them..." Laura reminisced.

"We did?"

"Oh my, yes. You'd assign them homework to do. And when you weren't looking your father would fill in the answers for each doll." Laura let out a small laugh, "You don't remember?"

Sara simply shook her head. "I don't, honestly."

"Well you were young. This probably went on from the time you were four until seven or so."

Grissom rubbed small circles on Sara's back to comfort her.

Laura looked down again, "Richard was a wonderful father to you. I'm sorry to have taken him away from you so early." Her voice was small and full of regret.

Sara almost stopped breathing. She had never heard her mother take responsibility for that night. A sudden relief washed over her.

"It wasn't your fault, mom." She soothed, "You didn't know you had a problem until it was too late."

"He knew, though. He just didn't know what to do about it."

"I don't think anyone then did, mom. And hitting us wasn't fixing it." She watched as small tear fell from her mothers eyes, "It's water under the bridge, mom. Really, look I grew up just fine. It's okay." Sara reached out to touch Laura's shoulder in comfort causing Laura to look up. Something in her eyes had changed.

"Why are you here? Has Richard sent you?"

"What? Mom?"

"Shh. Don't call me that. He's sent you hasn't he. He has." Laura's speech became rapid and mumbled.

Sara quickly stood, flagging a nurse with a hand motion. One quickly ran over, shining a light in Laura's eyes, taking in her appearance. He quickly stuck her shoulder with a clear liquid shot.

"I think it's best you two head out for now." The nurse said as he transferred Laura over to a wheelchair.

Sara nodded and stood walking quickly out of the facility, Grissom in tow. She pushed through doors and breathed in the fresh air, taking a seat on the building's stoop. Grissom slowly took a seat next to her; Close enough that she knew he was there for her while still giving her her space.

A few moments passed before she spoke, "After all this time, after how much I've grown in the past two years, I thought this would get easier." Grissom nodded silently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him. She rested her head against him now, letting a few tears fall.


	55. Chapter 55

Sara's strength and resilience was always something Grissom admired deeply. By that night, as they sat around the dining room table with Dave, Susan and Harry, enjoying a wonderful home cooked meal, Sara had completely shed the hurt she experienced at the end of her visit with her mother. Grissom watched as she spoke animatedly to her surrogate family about their travels, about Paris, about being back in Vegas. Her hands gesturing, eyes smiling. Grissom exhaled happily, watching her shoulders relax, eyes glow.

Seeing this scene play out in front of him made him wished they'd lived closer to the Crows, wished they were more of a presence in their lives.

"Do you plan to go back to Paris?" Harry asked apprehensively.

"That is the plan." Sara smiled and looked toward Grissom, "Hopefully just a few more months in Vegas helping out the team."

"So by next semester?"

Sara narrowed her eyes at Harry, "Spill."

"What?"

"C'mon. Why do you want me in Paris next semester?"

Harry blushed, "Am I that transparent?" He paused and put his fork down, looking to his mom and dad, "I applied for a semester abroad in Dijon and Paris."

"That's wonderful, Harry." Susan smiled, placing a gentle touch to his shoulder.

"I'll be there." Sara smiled broadly. Her statement caused Grissom to look up. _She'd never given him that definite of an answer._

"Awesome!" Harry exclaimed. "I find out more about it in January. I'll email you."

Once dinner places were cleaned and stomachs full, Susan and Sara cleared the table leaving Dave, Grissom and Harry in the room together.

"She's doing okay in Vegas?" Dave spoke quietly.

"She's says so." Grissom responded, "She seems much better. I think the time abroad helped."

Dave nodded and quickly switched the topic so not to linger on the subject too long, especially in front of Harry. Dave began to tell Grissom about some new equipment the SF lab had received as part of their new forensic focused research grant, how he was now splitting his time between the field, managing his team, and conducting research.

"You'll have to come by and see this technology some time—"

"Dave?"

"Excuse me." Dave stood to see what Susan needed from the kitchen. Grissom looked across the table at Harry now who was just finishing up a text.

"So you and Sara are pretty close."

"Yeah, Sara's awesome."

Grissom grinned at this, "I was just surprised, she must have already been out of the house by the time you were born."

"Yeah. But she lived here when she was going to Berkley. She pretty much raised me when my mom was working. I want to go to Berkley for grad school too. I think Sara did it right ya know? Go far away for undergrad, be on your own then come home later. East cost is great and all, but I don't know if I can handle another one of those winters!"

Grissom laughed softly, "I know what you mean. I went to University of Chicago for Grad school. Talk about a brutal winter." Small talk. This was a new thing for Grissom. He'd always been pretty bad at talking just to make conversation, but he'd warmed up to it over the last year, especially as they interacted with locals around the villages along their trip through South America.

Soon Sara emerged from the kitchen, "Well, it's getting pretty late. We should probably head out to a hotel."

"Nonsense." Susan spoke through small shakes of her head, "You'll stay here. Take your room upstairs."

"Susan—"

"Sara. Don't fight me on this." She warned in almost a motherly way. "It'll always be your room. Whenever you need it. You know that. Plus, It'll be nice to catch you two for breakfast before you head out in the morning."

Sara gave a quick glance Grissom's way to make sure he was alright with the accommodations before graciously agreeing.

"The bed already has fresh linens, I'll just grab you two a couple of towels and you should be all set."

Later on, Grissom disappeared to the upstairs guest bathroom to take a hot shower. Once out, he quickly made his way to the room they'd be staying in, _Sara's room._ At first he'd thought nothing of the phrase, she'd obviously stayed there when she first left Vegas. But then he got to looking around. The room was simple, a full size bed in the middle, floating shelves on blueish-green walls, a window with a tree filled view and a small desk. As Grissom changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, he took a look at what laid atop the desk. A few textbooks, college ones he noted; a photo of Sara's at her Berkley graduation hugging a very young Harry; some scribbled thoughts on post-it notes. He was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of small laughter coming from the room next door.

Curious, Grissom walked over and peaked his head in. His heart swelled at the sight of what he found—Sara and Harry laying stomach-flat on the floor next to each other, hunched over a book as Sara explained a complicated physics formula to him. _The full human_ _experience_ came to his mind once more. Seeing how at ease she was teaching him, laughing with him. He imagined walking in on the same scene but with their child.

"Hey, Gil." Sara looked up and lifted herself off the floor. "Ready for bed?" He simply nodded in return as he watched Sara turn back to Harry and say, "Just don't challenge Professor Leary on that. I know it seems flawed but he'll make your life hell having you explain it." She laughed smally, "Gosh, I can't believe he's still teaching that same course after all these years."

"You know I mentioned your name to him. He remembers you." Harry spoke as he zipped the book back into his knapsack. Another star pupil story I have to live up to." He joked and Sara brushed him off then said goodnight and joined Grissom in the other bedroom.

* * *

Time seemed to have rushed by because before she knew it, she was driving Grissom back to the airport to catch his flight to Paris. Five days. She'd had him here for five days but it seemed like mere hours.

"I'll miss you." She spoke sadly as she walked him to the security line. He turned to face her, placing a gently hand on her cheek.

"Come home to me soon." He pleaded more with his eyes than his voice, "There are many talented CSI's in the states, they'll be able to find someone."

"I'll push Ecklie a little harder." She agreed, "But I am enjoying being back her, Gil. Just not so much enjoying being away from you."

Grissom sighed, _what was he supposed to do?_ He didn't have an answer to his question. "Sara—"

"Yeah?" She waited patiently—waited for him to find his words. She furrowed her brows, feeling suddenly like he'd reverted into his old uncommunicative habits. She waited a moment longer until the silence was unbearable. "We'll figure it out." She spoke, saving him from needing to speak. "Call me when you land."

"You'll be sleeping."

"Text me then." She didn't bother to argue. He nodded in silent agreement, kissed her lips gently and parted ways.

* * *

The flight back was long and exhausting. Typically, Grissom enjoyed such time to sit alone with his thoughts. But it wasn't as soothing as it tended to be. No, his thoughts were roaming to places that he'd rather not think about, but it wouldn't quiet.

He couldn't stop thinking about how young both and Sara were when they lost their fathers—eight and 13 respectfully. And then his own age, 53. If they waited a year to conceive, the child would be born when he was 55; go to college when he was 73. The image of which left him slightly nauseous. Having a child now would almost give that child greater odds of going most of its life without a father. He kept trying to shake the thought from his head. But he couldn't. _Was it too late?_ _Did life already pass him by?_

He wished Sara was sitting by his side to sooth and quiet his racing mind, but alas she was not. Instead a young man holding his newborn baby sat beside him. Perhaps a taunt from a greater power.

He landed and returned to his apartment alone to begin his routine as usual.


	56. Chapter 56

Days passed and then months, and Grissom longed for Sara. For the weight of her sleeping beside him, for her sent to fill his senses, for her touch below the pads of his fingers. Soon the semester would come to a close, Sara had only been back to paris twice since they'd last been in Vegas together. And that last visit was months ago now, a distant but fragrant memory. _Sara,_ her name danced off his tongue but the sound simply bounced back to his ears off the empty space of the room as he awoke.

He looked to his phone to see a missed call from her. It'd been happening a lot lately, he'd return a missed call to get a voicemail, she'd do the same in return. It wasn't terrible though, they typically went back and forth like that maybe three times before reaching each other finally. He scrowled to the texts of his phone to find one from Sara:

 _Sorry I missed you. I'm guessing your sleeping now. Call me when you wake. I love you. -S_ G

 _-SG,_ He smiled at the initials. While she'd legally kept the name Sidle, they often played with the idea of changing her surname to Grissom, even if it was just for the two of them. He knew when she signed a text like this, that meant she really missed him. His fingers quickly dialed her back.

"Sidle."

"You mean to answer, Grissom, no?" He spoke in loose french causing Sara to smile.

"Hello, Gilbert." Her playful voice rang through his ears, filing his core with warmth.

"Good morning, Dear." For while Grissom knew it was actually night by Sara, she was most likely getting up for work now around this time too. "You sound like you've been up for a while."

"Just coming off a double actually."

"I should have known." He jested. Then sat up a bit in bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I have something to talk with you about..."

"Okay." Sara said apprehensively, not sure what was to come next.

"The grant wasn't funded. I found out two days ago."

"Oh."

He could hear the disappointment in her voice, heavy and heart breaking. "We could reapply next year, or perhaps change the research project for another county, maybe we can reapply somewhere in the states."

"You want to come live across the pond again?" She teased easily, "That sounds like a good plan." She continued but the disappointment was still there. "I hate to start this process all over again. It could be another year now." She admitted.

"I know." He ran his hand through his soft curls now, then over his beard, scratching his jaw line. "My teaching position closes soon." He began but paused for a while. She thought of jumping in, asking him to come to Vegas but she stayed quiet, waiting for him to talk. "The government in Peru asked me to join a team of consultants there. An archeology team of sorts."

"Is that something you want?" Her voice was calm and reassuring, easing his discomfort.

"It sounds exciting. Would you have an interest in coming with me? They can use another scientist and it could fill our time while we reapply for grants."

"When do you start?"

"They'd like me to fly out in two months."

"I see." Sara paused briefly "I—" She was cut off by the sound of someone in the background. He could only make out bits and pieces of it, but it sounded like Ecklie's furry. "I'm sorry Gil, I've got to go. We'll discuss this more later?"

"Okay. Bye, dear."

"Goodbye, Gil."

The silence on the other end became deafening. Grissom closed his phone and replaced it on the nightstand before standing and stretching the day hello.

* * *

 **September 2010**

"Headed out on time?" Nick called from his seated position behind his desk as he watched Sara walked past his office. She stopped in her tracks and peaked in, brows raised. "You've got the next two days off too." He noted nudgingly.

"What are you getting at Nicky?" She played along, leaning on the doorframe. This doorframe that used to be apart of her husband's office. She often felt nostalgic when in that room now, she couldn't never really shake it.

"You getting a visitor? Perhaps from Peru?"

She smiled widely, "I am." She readjusted her bag on her shoulder, "Goodnight, Nick."

As she turned to leave he called after her, "Happy birthday!"

She smiled and left.

Grissom had taken the consulting job in Peru a few months ago at this point. She had decided not to join him there. _The grant will come through, and then they will be together,_ She had justified. They applied in both the states and in France again. Both currently pending review. Sara drove to the airport straight from the lab and waited for him to land. His flight had been delayed nearly half an hour, but she hadn't known that until she'd already arrived at the terminal.

She hadn't seen him since he'd left for Peru, having only seen him one month prior to that. She grew anxious with anticipation as she tried her best to wait patiently.

"Looking for someone?" A voice from behind came and she quickly spun around to see him there. His bearded face smiled widely at the sight of her, blue eyes dancing.

"Gil!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in for a long, deep kiss. "Gil." She spoke again once they broke the kiss, breathing his name.

"Hello, dear." He kissed her forehead and then her lips again gently. "Happy birthday." She glowed as she looked up at him.

"Let's go home."

* * *

They didn't waste much time once they loft door was opened. Clothes shed nearly immediately. Kisses broken only to get shirts over heads. His warm breath whispering terms of endearment in her ear. Kisses trailing down her neck, over her collar bone, down her chest. Legs intertwining, fingers dancing over soft skin. His kiss on her lips breathtaking. They held each other tightly in the throws of passion. feeling months of built up tension wash away in minutes.

They had grown good at living a world away from each other. In many ways, it allowed both to be the loners they truly were a part, while having the comfort of knowing the other was out there. Things weren't perfect, of course. But they were managing just fine—both agreed on this. That is, until they reunited in either Las Vegas, Paris or Peru, and were overwhelmed by the feeling of the others presence. Then it all reset.

He heard the shower water turned on as he opened his eyes. _Had he fallen asleep? For how long?_ He lazily rubbed the sleep from his yes and sat up, finding Sara not in the bed beside him. He moved toward the bathroom, opening the door slowly to see her foggy figure behind the shower glass door, seam rising. Already disrobed, Grissom slipped in behind her.

She gasped in surprise, "Gil!" She finally laughed once her heart beat began to return to normal. He simply smiled in return pulling her to him, hugging her soapsud-soaked body to his. He cold feel her exhale contently against him. He rested his chin on top of her head and just stood there holding her. "Happy birthday" He finally spoke into the silence, "officially."

He knew birthdays weren't her favorite thing. She'd never really had proper one's growing up so the day never really felt like anything special to her. But she'd grown more accustomed to the idea since being with Grissom. They'd often share a simple day together, a nice dinner in the evening and often end the day with a small but thoughtful gift from Gil. But he knew better then to get her a cake or make any kind of real fuss over her.

He remembered the day that Sara opened up to him about the last birthday wish she'd ever made—At 13 years old. _It was 2007, and their relationship had finally found a comfortable groove. He'd greeted her at home after work with a homemade meal finished with a small cake, a single candle perched atop. He sensed the shift in her mood at its sight._

 _"What's wrong?"_

 _"No-nothing. This was very thoughtful. Thank you."_

 _"Sara... You can tell me."_

 _He remembered her smiling sadly as she told him why she never really celebrated her birthday. How just one month after making a birthday wish on candles for "the fighting to stop" that her mother stabbed her father. In a child's attempt to make sense of life events, she'd blamed herself for her father's death, attributing it to that birthday wish. She new as an adult, as a scientist, as an atheist, that this made no logical sense. But the memory still prickled the hairs on the back of her neck._

No, Grissom did not make that mistake twice.

They spent the day together taking long strolls, talking about recent adventures, catching up. At night, they'd gone out to dinner—Grissom having made a reservation at a nice restaurant. They shared a bottle of red wine as they spoke softly in French. She loved the way it sounded in his voice, and he knew this.

The three days together came and went and soon he was off again to Peru.

"I'll be back soon." He reminded her as they stood in the airport once more, a scene that was getting old to both fast. "The even at Gilbert College is in just two months. I'll stay the week if I can."

"Okay." She agreed, "I should probably brush up on my sign skills."

Grissom nodded, "It'd be a good idea. But you'll have me there to interpret." She kissed her lips gently and said goodbye. She stood and watched as he disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

 **November 2010**

Sara arrived at the Gilbert Foundation for the Deaf's grant finalists event. Grissom was supposed to fly in the day before, but he'd been caught up on a project for the government in Peru. He'd promised her he'd be in to walk into the event together but she had yet to hear from him and it was getting late. Not wanted to stand up Betty Grissom, she decided to go in alone.

Sara's eyes darted around feverishly for Betty as she walked down the stairs to the event. She wore a blue silk, haltered dress. Her hair pinned up with a few pieces dangling loosely on purpose. A few eyes turned to watch as she walked into the crowd. Her heart began to pound to the rhythm of the drums as she grew anxious, not wanted to walk into this party alone. Suddenly her phone rang to see Grissom's name scrawled across the lock screen. She quickly answered and turned to walk up the stairs, seeking a quiet place to talk.

"Gil! I'm here already where are you?"

"I'm still in Peru. Are you at the party?"

"Hold on, uh—hold on, Gil." She walked faster to get away from the noise of the drums. "I can't hear you."

"Sounds like Tiko drums in the background. The deaf love the vibrations, they can feel them on their skin."

"Why are you still in Peru? Is everything okay?"

"They found another mass grave. The government asked me to stay." His voice began to break up.

"Gil? Gil!" She looked at the phone to see the call had been cut short. She sighed heavily in disappointment, resigning to the idea that she'd been attending this party alone after all. Then a woman exited a room with a frosted door just behind Sara. She watched as the woman slid out of the room, fixing her hair and smudged lipstick quickly before rejoining the party. Sara smirked knowingly.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself and walked into the party. This time she was quickly able to spot Betty.

"Mrs. Grissom! Hi." She spoke and smiled. She kicked herself mentally for not being more diligent about studying sign language. _He'd promised he'd be here to translate._

Sara took Betty's extended hand warmly before she pulled it away to sign to her. The translator to Sara's left spoke the words Betty signed,

"Sara, I'd like you to meet someone."

Betty turned around to grab a woman's attention. The woman, being the same as the person she'd just seen exit the room upstairs, Sara noted as the woman turned around.

"Julia Holden. Head of the department of Deaf Cultural Studies."

Sara picked up on the quick shock in Julia's sight, knowing Sara had seen what she'd seen upstairs, Julia not knowing at the time who she was.

"Nice to meet you professor." Sara spoke and signed. Proud of herself for at least knowing the basics.

"Julia. Please." Julia signed back, "My students don't even call me professor."

"Sara is Gil's wife." Betty chimed in.

A curious smile washed over Julia's face, "Oh the other Mrs. Grissom."

Sara smiled politely in return.

"Sara Sidle." Betty interrupted, "She didn't take his name."

Sara could read the underlying text there loud and clear, Betty's facial expressions gave this away. A signer's own form of verbal inflection.

"Julia's been like a daughter to me. I'm so proud of her." Julia gave betty a side hug and smiled. An intimate gesture that Sara and Betty had never come close to sharing, "A published author, lecturer, foremost accomplished in deaf culture studies in the country." Betty gushed.

Then a man came over and introduced himself as Dr. Lambert. Betty politely introduced her daughter-in-law and Julie excused herself quickly.

"So, where is your son?" Dr. Lambert directed his question to Betty, but she quickly passed it off with a head gesture to Sara.

"Gil got stuck in Peru. He's been doing some consulting work for the government. He's... He's not coming." Sara's eyes moved rapidly trying to read what Betty was saying in return.

"Seems like my son's away from home a lot." Betty signed to Dr. Lambert then glared her eyes into Sara. All she could do was smile awkwardly. Not knowing how to navigate her relationship with Betty without Grissom by her side. Eventually Dr. Lambert excused himself leaving Betty, Sara and the interpreter at the hightop table alone.

"I know you're disappointed he couldn't make it tonight." Sara finally spoke to cut the obvious tension. "I only just found out a few moments ago."

"I see." Was all she said at first, "I would assume you would have communicated earlier to establish your plans."

Sara sighed, she couldn't win with this woman. "He seems to really love what he's doing there with the Peruvian government."

"Yes. We've spoken."

Sara nodded smally. Not sure what to say when like from divine intervention, someone came to steal Betty away to join a different discussion. Sara walked outside to get some air, not able to handle to the—for lack of a better word—deafening silence inside.

But outside was just as silent. Groups of people stood together signing and smiling. Comfortably enjoying the warm night air—that is until a rumble exploded in the distance. Sara looked ahead to see a ball of fire rush into the sky. She ran toward it to find Julia trying to open the car that was no on fire. She rushed to her side, pulling her from the car before it exploded again.

Betty watched from behind the yellow tape as Sara walked up to two men—Ray and Nick.

"Hey."

"Wait a minute. You did something different." Nick spoke with wide eyes.

"Oh my goodness, I almost didn't recognize you." Ray spoke with more astonishment in his voice then he wanted to let on.

"Yeah, yeah. Did you get a hair cut or something?" Nick teased.

Sara's mouth fell agape, not sure how to respond, "Please tell me that you—"

"Yes, yes. We have your work clothes." Ray handed sara the department coveralls.

Nick placed his kit down on the ground, "Here's a seat for ya." Sara took the seat and began to carefully slip each leg into the coveralls, shimmying it under the dress. Betty rolled her eyes at the "boyish" manner in which Sara was conducting herself. Although Sara did not realize Betty's disapproval, mainly because she was unaware of her presence at all at this moment.

It wasn't until Sara was asking Julia some questions and Betty rushed to her side that Sara realized Betty had been there.

"Mrs. Grissom, I'm sorry—I need you to step back. Julia, her clothing, it's evidence."

Betty began to sign something quickly, too quickly for Sara to understand, "Wait. Wait. I don't understand. It's too fast." Sara spoke and signed. Greeted quickly by a look of disapproval and dismay by her mother-in-law.

* * *

Later at the lab Sara walked with hallways with Catherine, catching her up on the case.

"I'm going to scope the campus, see if Dr. Lambert had any enemies."

"Why don't you just check with your mother-in-law." Catherine questioned, "She's pretty dialed in there."

Sara forced a smile, "Uh, yeah. Communication's not really our strong suit."

"I thought you were learning to sign?"

"I am, I'm improving—It's not really a language barrier... it's just kind of a barrier. She's very hard to get close to. She questions everything, she's got to be right about everything. She's emotionally unavailable." Sara stopped speaking at the sight of a smirk from Catherine followed by a small laugh, "What?"

"I'm sorry," She shook her head laughing, "You just described Grissom. Like mother like son." She walked passed Sara into the AV room where Greg was seated. Sara took a moment outside the room to let what Catherine had just said fully sink in. She didn't really think of Grissom like that—not any more at least. But now hearing it from Catherine, Sara realized that's exactly how Grissom acted toward her in the earlier days of her being in Vegas. But this wasn't sexual tension, it was just—tension. And Sara didn't know how to fix that.

* * *

Nick and Sara now stood in Julia Holden's office looking for signs of bomb-making when she spotted Julia, Betty and the interpreter walking toward them.

"What are you doing here?" Julia's face was angry.

"We'll... we're conducting a murder investigation." Sara spoke calmly as the interpreter signed for her.

"What's going on, Nick?" Betty questioned. Causing Nick to side glance at Sara.

"Mrs. Grissom, we have reason to believe that somebody might have planted a bomb in Dr. Lambert's car."

"You don't think Julia had anything to do with it!" Shock filled Betty's eyes.

Sara spoke up, "Julia, you were not being honest about where you were when the bomb went off. Where were you really?"

"I haven't done anything wrong!" Julia and Betty shared glances at one another. The room fell silent.

"Okay." Sara steadied herself, "We are executing a search warrant, and will need both of you to please wait in the hall." Betty's eyes went wide as the uniform ushered them out.

Nick turned to Sara, "You don't seem to be winning any brownie points with your mother-in-law. She really seems to like me thought." Nick smiled playful, but quickly wiped it of his face at the sight of Sara. Lips thin, brows furrowed, unamused.

* * *

Sara sat opposite Julia in the interrogation room along with Brass and a court certified interpreter.

"So he wasn't the man you were having sex with at the party?" Julia snapped her head in Sara's direction at this accusation.

"I told you I didn't kill him!" Julia signed animatedly. She paused for a moment before continuing, "Obviously there's a conflict of interest here."

"What's she talking about?" Brass asked the interpreter to sign.

Julia looked at Sara as she answered, "My history with your husband."

She shook her head, a small smirk dancing on her lips, "What history?"

"We were involved. Intimately." Julia held a satisfied look on her face at Sara's obvious naivety.

"Well this is awkward." Brass spoke.

"He didn't tell you? I assumed married people told each other everything."

Sara breathed in deeply, knowing now that Betty was confining in Julia about Gil.

"My marriage has nothing to do with this case."

"It does now."


	57. Chapter 57

A/N: I felt the need to devote two full chapters to "The Two Mrs. Grissoms." It was such a revealing episode for their relationship's current state. Things will progress a little faster from here out.

Thanks for all the comments and reviews. Keep them coming :)

Enjoy!

* * *

Hodges took a seat at the break room table next to Sara, opposite Catherine.

"I did however, find something on the sheets you collected." He began, "Hair and vaginal contributions. Both from Julia Holden."

"Having sex with one of her students." Catherine raised a brow.

"Maybe Shawn was the one Julia was having sex with in the bathroom."

"Mmmm. Quite deliberating." Hodges mused aloud. Causing Catherine an Sara to exchange an eye roll, "Not unlike, Lady Heather. Clearly Grissom has a yin for sexually adventurous women whose veracious appetites can only be sated by dangerous, unbridled passion."

"Thank you." Sara quickly cut him off, shoving his case file back toward him.

"That is—most of the time. Until he realized that even though you can have sexual satisfaction, it doesn't hold a candle to spirited intellectual conversation" Hodges word vomited trying to dig himself out of a hole, "Not to say that you and Grissom don't have a great sex life. I mean—when you happen to be in the same city. ha" He laughed nervously.

"Isn't that your phone down the hall?" Cather cut in angrily.

"Yes it is! Thank you." Hodges leapt at the chance to leave.

Sara felt hot, humiliated. This whole day was turning from bad to worse. Never before has she spoken so much about her sex life—or ever really. She turned to Catherine, "Grissom and I have great sex." She somewhat blurted in an attempt to redeem her image from Hodges' musing on Grissom's sex life.

"I'm sure you do." Catherine responded simply.

* * *

Betty and Sara sat at a small table at the hospital where Julia was recovering from the explosion that had gone of in her office just an hour earlier.

"Do you know what this means?" Sara signed a gesture for Betty, hoping she'd know what Shawn was signing to Julia just now. A sign that she nor the interpreter knew. She signed it again as Betty looked closely.

"Oh yes. That means sweet pea, in LSQ. Quebec sign language."

"Quebec? Shawn is from England. Why would be be speaking LSQ?"

"Maybe he spent some time there? Picked up on the slang?"

"That's possible." She paused and smiled, "When Gil and I first got back from Europe there were a couple phrase that stuck with me too."

"Do you miss it?"

"Europe?"

She shook her head, "Being with your husband." A silence fell between them as the weight of Betty's words sunk into Sara. "What kind of marriage do you have? You barely even see each other. You don't even live in the same town."

"We talk every day. We, we see each other at least once a month..."

Betty cut her off, "That is not a marriage. I lost my husband too soon. But in all the years that we were married we never spent one night apart."

Sara spoke softly in return, "I understand where you're coming from, I do. Gil and I lost our father close to the same age."

"I did not know this." Betty signed with a furrowed expression. She suddenly realized that she knew little at all about Sara other than her profession—a profession she was never thrilled Gil had taken up in the first place. "And your mother."

"Lives in San Fransisco." Sara smiled and nodded, knowing that's all she'd give Betty. There was no need to discuss further about it. "It's unconventional, I know." she continued. "But what Gil and I have works. We love each other, we're a family. And—" She suddenly became sick of having to explain this again, "You know what, if you don't want to be a part of it that's your call." She stood hastily to leave. Betty watched as she walked away.

Betty went to an interpreter she knew well and asked a favor of him, to call her son for her and translate over the phone. He obliged.

"Grissom."

"Dr. Grissom. I have your mother here, she was hoping to get a word with you. Do you mind if I translate?"

"Thats fine. Is everything alright?"

The translator signed Gil's question to Betty. In return she had him tell Gil of the day's events and what had transpired: the explosion at the party, accusing Julia of murder; the blowup Sara just had directed at Betty.

"Mom." Grissom sighed softly, "I know you love Julia, but we haven't been together in well over a decade. And it was only for a few months. I think it's time you treat Sara in a similar way you treat Julia... like family."

"I don't understand what happened between you and Julia. You were very good together." Betty harped on the former part of his sentence.

"I didn't love her." Grissom spoke casually.

"And you love Sara?"

"You know I do. With all of my heart. I know you disapprove of our lifestyle, but we're making it work. You need to trust me. It's not her fault I'm not home. Please don't take that out on her."

Betty conceded, "I see."

"She likes vegetation."

"Excuse me?"

"When you go and apologize."

"Gilbert..."

"I love you both very much, mother. But you can both be stubborn at times." He was generous with these words, in truth they were both stubborn all the time. "Trust me, go to her. It'll be fixed."

"And grandchildren? How will that work when you live worlds apart?"

"One hurdle at a time, mother. I have to go now. We'll speak soon."

"Alright, dear. Be safe."

* * *

Later that night, once the evidence had come to a head and the truth was out, Sara released Julia from holding. Sara retreated to an empty office to video call with Grissom. He'd texted her that he'd be free around this time, and she'd agreed assuming that she'd be home by now. But she was not. The lab halls were mostly empty now though, so she did have privacy.

She answer the call and smiled.

"Gilbert." She smiled widely.

"Hello, Dear." He glowed. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it."

"I understand." She paused briefly, "Tell me about your findings."

"The graves were littered with pupae casings. Looks like somebody dumped a ton of Rice Crispies on top of a bunch of halloween skeletons." She laughed softly at his story. "It indicated that it wasn't a proper burial. In the Inca period there was no greater punishment. We think it was meant as a warning: _Don't mess with the Mochking."_

 _"_ Aha." She smiled

"Well anyway, how was your week? What have you need up to?"

"Well. I almost gone blown up— _Twice._ I accused your ex-girlfriend of murder and, oh, I uh—I told off your mother."

"Oh good. You've kept busy."

"Yeah. See what happens when you stand me up?" She smirked knowingly.

"So you met Julia?"

"I did. She's beautiful." Sara's insecurities were transparent despite her best attempts to hide them.

"No. Julia is pretty, you are belle. L'amour de ma vie."

Sara blushed, "Still, you could have given me a heads up. Or your mother could have...I realized today that the only part of your romantic history that I'm really aware of is the one night you spent with Heather Kessler. A fact that Hodges had no problem shedding some light on."

Grissom laughed at this. A moment of weakness is what he chalked that up to be. He and Heather had grown to have a great friendship filled with mutual respect sine then. If he were to be honest, he'd only let himself succumb to her seduction that night to get Sara off his mind at the time—a time when he was still desperately trying to deny his feelings for her. This he would not tell her though.

"There's no need to harp on the past." He shrugged. "But I guess perhaps we're even now, you did blind side me with Hank Pedigrew."

"Hank?" She gawked, "Gil, that was seven or eight years ago."

"Like I said, no need to harp on the past." He smirked knowingly, letting his smile widen at the sound of her small laugh. A laugh that sent the hairs of his neck standing up straight. A sound that warmed his soul.

But her attention drifted at the sound of a knock on the door. She turned to see Betty there in the threshold.

"Whose that?"

"Uh, it's your mother."

Betty's face lit up at the sight of Grissom on the computer screen. She quickly took a seat beside Sara.

"Hi Mom! You never came to the office when I was working there." He signed and spoke at the same time, the normal routine he'd gotten into when it was just the three of them. "I heard you and Sara had an exciting week." Sara shook her head softly and exhaled as Betty signed something.

"Oh." Betty handed Sara a potted plant, "African Violets. They're beautiful."

"I told her you like vegetation."

"Thank you." She softened, looking at Betty now, "I'm sorry too. Can we start over?"

Grissom grinned at the scene unfolding before him. "When I come back, the three of us will come back to dinner."

"When?" Betty signed.

"Soon." He replied simply, softly.

Betty began to sign again, "I know my worrying can be burdensome. But when do you two have a chance to be intimate? You're never together. I worry about your happiness."

"Your mother... Is talking about our sex life." Sara glanced toward Grissom for help.

"In the Incan society, the elders would pass down their knowledge of sexual pleasure to younger generations. Their stories were documented on their pottery. Little ceramic jars called sex pots."

"Sex pots." Sara reiterated and mimicked the sign gesture.

"Gil's father and I—"

Grissom cut her off, "Sometimes too much." He smiled, "I love you both."

"Love you too." She smiled warmly, "Bye."


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N:** My guess is that we have about 10 to 15 chapters to go here, but we'll see where this takes us!

Also, so far in this series I've kept the dates fairly true to the timeline of events put forth by the show. However, in the episode "Forget Me Not" Where they reveal Grissom and Sara are no longer together, it takes place in February, despite us knowing she has a September birthday. That said, I had to move around some of the dates for it to line up correctly here.

Here's a long one, Enjoy! (Next update should follow shortly)

* * *

 **July 2012**

Sara stood in a layout room re-filling her field kit. For a change, it was a slow night and the team were finding ways to fill their time usefully. She refilled her powders, cleaned her brushes, added some more swabs. As she went through the motion she took out her phone.

"You've reached Gil Grissom, Please leave a message."

"Hey Gil, just wanted to hear your voice. Give me a call if you get a chance."

Sara sighed through a pang in her heart. Their visits had become more sparse over the last year. For the first two years they'd made a point to see each other at least every other month. Weather he'd fly to Vegas, she to Peru or they meet in San Fransisco or Santa Monica. More so, they spoke almost every day. But old habits began to creep out from the shadows after a while and in year three of long-distance marriage their default loner personalities were weighing a heavy toll.

She hadn't spoken to him in four days now. Each getting the other's voicemail. Short clips of "Sorry I missed you"s and "Call when you get a chance"es.

During the first two years Sara could look forward to a hand written letter from him once every few months or so. Scrawled penmanship of his favorite sonnet's or poems. Little ' _thinking-of-you'_ messages. But she hadn't received one of those in over six months, maybe more—she couldn't quite recall anymore.

She missed him deeply. But their lives were at a stalemate. She'd promised him that she'd only be in Vegas until they could find a replacement—but this turned out to be a lie she hadn't intended. Morgan Brody joined the team quite some time ago now, but she justified that Morgan was filling in for Ray's absence. Of course Finn had joined the team even before then, and so had D.B. But then Catherine had left... _There was always an excuse._

 _"What will it take for you to leave Vegas?" Grissom had asked months ago, in a very uncharacteristic blunt fashion._

 _"Gil..." Was all she knew to respond with, and it was met with a sad sigh on the other side of the phone._

There had been a brief moment last year where they'd thought they had figured it out. Grissom moved back to Vegas, being commissioned by Pearsons to rewrite part of an Entomology textbook. He had taken a sabbatical of sorts from his consulting position in Peru at the time. They bought a house together and sold the condo. He'd changed his sleep routine to write the textbook at night so to be in sync with her grave shift schedule. But that lasted a mere two months before he was called back to Peru for an exciting excavation.

 _"Come with me." He had pleaded as he packed his suitcase. "It's all anthropology. You love that, no?" He teased, calling back their memories to the day they met. Her standing in front of him, pony tail swinging, asking too many questions about anthropology—trying to get up the nerve to ask him to dinner._

But she hadn't joined him. And he never really moved back. Every few months when they though a project was over and he could come find work to do in the States, something pulled him back in. _If he really wanted to be here, he would._ She'd convinced herself. And so the rift began.

A buzz from her phone brought her out of her thoughts. "10-19 THE BREAK ROOM." A text from D.B read. She quickly stopped what she was doing and walked out of the room, bumping into something, someone—

"Sara Sidle." A low, deep voice staccato'd her name. She looked up.

"Doug?" She blinked to ensure her eyes weren't deceiving her. "Doug. What are you doing here?" She gave him a quick embrace.

"You're about to find out." He spoke through a sly crooked smile and walked to the break room with her.

There, the rest of the team had assembled. D.B. played a clip obtained by a tourist on the strip of a plane going down.

"This is NTSB Investigator, Doug Wilson. He's going to be leading the crash investigation. You two guys worked together before, right?" D.B. pointed between Doug and Sara, both quickly says "Yeah."—a little too quick. Something Finn caught immediately.

"Yeah, on an NTSB crime scene when I worked in the San Fransisco Crime Lab." She stared intently into his eyes, almost as a warning. She'd brought up that specific investigation on purpose, silently telling him not to bring up any other part of their history.

He smiled, catching her drift, "Right now we have very little information." He continued to brief the room, looking between each CSI, always landing his eyes on Sara has he ended his sentences. She shook her head in almost undetectable motions, knowing he was trying to flirt.

* * *

"What about the black box?" Sara asked as she, Doug, Finn and D.B. stood around a layout table.

"Haven't found it yet. I'm going to go back to the site and take a look around." He paused briefly and looked at Sara, "Could use some help." There it was again, his flirtatious smile. After all these years apart, she could still read him so well. He was transparent to her, but she couldn't let on that she knew.

"That's a good idea." D.B. spoke, forcing Sara out of her thoughts, "You've worked together before. You probably have your own short hand. It's a good idea."

Sara gave him a knowing look as she walked out and headed for the locker room.

* * *

She opened her locker, a photo of her and Grissom from Costa Rico hun on the inside door—a photo that was now three years old. She through on her vest, checked her gun and holstered it.

"Ready to roll?" Doug appeared in the threshold of the locker room.

"Just about." She answered somewhat mindlessly, feeling her phone vibrate she checked the caller ID—Grissom. She sighed internally knowing she didn't have time to answer his cal now. She let it go to voice mail.

"Just like old times." He smirked, taking in her appearance.

"Very old times." She countered.

"Heard you uh, married your boss. What's his name?"

"Gil."

"Right, Grissom. Bug guy."

She pursed his lips, "We met him the same day, you know."

"Right. You turned my date invitation for coffee down so you suck up to him after the lecture."

"You still married to whats her name?"

"Candy?"

"Candy. Right. Yoga instructor"

"No, no," He smiled, feeling their almost sibling-like banter return to normal, "We crashed and burned years ago."

"Yeah, I didn't see that coming." Her voice laced with unsubtle sarcasm, accompanied by a Sidle-famous smirk.

"Yeah you did."

She brushed past him. "Just like old times." _Was she flirting back?_ She realized as she walked down the hall toward the front of the building, waiting for him to catch up so they could head to the site together. It came so naturally to her, their easy banter, the shared smiles, knowing looks. She rubbed at the band on her ring finger mindlessly.

* * *

After spending the day together out at the crash site, Sara and Doug sat side by side in the AV lab. He turned to her as he processed some wires.

"Hey, did you hear that the Rusty Nickel closed?"

Sara let out a laugh, "Well that's about time. That bar gave dives a bad name."

"What are you talking about. You loved that place."

"Yeah you're right I did love it." She quipped quickly and leaved back in her chair, "Right until the moment they kicked me out for life." She cleared her throat, sitting back up.

"They did do that."

"Yep." She knew they were sharing an unspoken memory. One of her and Doug at that bar drinking away the grime of the day. When they had been dating for a few months at that point.

"You were pretty wild in those days." He mused aloud. She caught the gleam in his eyes, that flirtatious look.

"Cut it out." She scolded but it came out more playful than she'd intended.

They continued to discuss the case at hand, Sara trying to distance herself a bit.

"Okay what's left then? The window blew out? Or a door? Whatever it is it had to fall to earth, right? Extrapolating from their position at the time of depressurization and factoring in their altitude and velocity, I mean _I_ can zero in on their location."

He looked deep into her eyes, "Always a physics major."

"I'll tell you what. I'm going to take my physics and I'm going to find whatever fell out of your airplane."

"And what me? What do I do?"

"Well you're going to build me a plane." She flashed him a sidle-famous grin. A look that never failed to melt him.

They spent the next few hours in the garage building a make-shift model of the plane. They stood inside it together now, acting out Sara's theory of what must have happened aboard the flight before they crashed.

"I try to over power you." Doug moves in close and grabs Sara's extended wrist pointing like a gun.

"Then we struggle for the gun." They moved in a mimicked struggle, their bodies close now. She looked up at him, his height towering over her, faces mere inches apart.

"Struggling."

She smiled at him instinctually. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his soft touch on her shoulders as he gripped her in a pretend struggle. Her stomach began to flutter. She hadn't felt this close to another person in months. Hadn't felt touched, or admired, or seen. A lump caught in her throat as he moved his hands to pin up both her wrists.

A quick flash of a memory bounced into view. Grissom. Pinning her up against a blood and wax stained sheet. Back when the sexual tension still lingered heavily between them, before they'd gotten together. His bearded face, soft blue eyes. His scent. The feeling of warmth rise within her at their proximity. The closest they'd ever really been next to each other at that point. His lips so close to hers that only centimeters separated them, close enough to kiss—but forbidden.

She quickly but gently took her wrists back and pushed him away, as if they were still acting the scene, "Commanders the plane. Pilot only has time to radio once and turns the plane around."

"We're missing something."

Sara gave him a squinted, disapproving look as he challenged her physics.

"Just saying." He put his hands up in innocence.

* * *

Hodges walked the halls back to his lab when he passed an empty AV lab hearing a phone vibrating. He took a peak in to see a cell phone on the table vibrating, the caller ID screen lighting up. Two quick strides brought him to it and saw "Grissom." scrolling across.

He looked around for Sara, realizing it must be her phone that she'd left there but she was no where in sight. Without thinking he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?"

"Grissom!" Hodges smiled widely, acting surprised even though he'd seen the caller ID. "How are you?"

"Hodges? What are you doing with Sara's phone?"

"Just found it, she must have left it here in the AV lab."

"You should return it to her." He said shortly. A big part of him not missing Vegas and the crime lab life included Hodges' nosey, suck-up attitude.

"Sure, sure. You know—I think she's in the garage getting chummy with Doug. Old flames never really burn out do they."

"Excuse me?"

"Doug? Doug Wilson? Oh you know, the NTSB guy. I'm sure Sara told you about him helping out on an investigation. Her ex-boyfriend from San Fran." Hodges didn't actually know if this was true at the time, but his hunch told him it was.

"Alright, Hodges. Just return her phone will you?"

"You got it boss. I'll keep an eye on them."

"That's not necessary, and I'm not your boss anymore." With that Grissom hung up. _Doug_. He tried to rack his mind to remember a Doug but nothing came to mind. An ex from San Fransisco means the relationship ended over 12 years ago. Grissom shook his head, leave it to Hodges to try to metal in someone else's marriage.

* * *

"You left this in the AV lab." Hodges spoke as he walked into the garage handing Sara the phone.

"Oh, thanks." Sara quickly pocketed it and returned to her task at hand. "You want to check the door for trace while you're here?"

"Sure." Hodges moved to the plane door that laid on a table, combing over it with a magnifying glass. "Green paint." He spoke as he picked up a remnant of it with tweezers. "All yours." Hodges moved over to let Sara take a cast of the tool mark on the door.

"So, this uh, NTSB guy—Wilson—seems like a good sort."

"He is." She spoke absently as she focused on casting a mold.

"When you guys worked together in Frisco, were you close?"

"Well it was a lengthy investigation. We spent a lot of time together."

"Well there's spending time together and there's _spending time together._ "

Sara looked up from the mold now, "What are you getting at Hodges?" She spoke in a cold, harsh tone. One that always made Hodges nervous.

"I'm—I'm not getting at anything."

"How's it going in here?" Doug walked back into the garage.

"The mold is ready." Sara peeled back the mold as Doug stepped closer to get a better look.

"Looks like a good cast. No bubbles, see the tool marks."

"Helps if you get in close. Doesn't it?" Hodges chimed in earning him a death stare from Sara. A movement not unnoticed by Doug.

"Is that paint transfer?"

"Indeed."

"You have a machine to go put that in?" Doug looked down at Hodges sternly.

"Say no more." Hodges moved back and collected the sample, "Three's a crowd."

"What's his problem?" Doug turned to Sara once Hodges was gone.

She shook her head, "Don't even get me started."

"He obviously think's something is going on here." Doug smirked.

"But nothing is." She looked up at him sternly, almost warningly.

"Seems like Hodges has a vested interest in this." He spoke, not giving much in the way of showing he heard her warning.

"He idolizes Gil."

"Ah, the famed Husband of yours."

She ignored him and cleaned up the cast mold.

* * *

Sara's phone sat on the layout room table, ringing. Grissom _mobile_ flashed across the lock screen.

"You can take that." Finn spoke as she glanced at the caller ID. "I can come back." She moved to lave for Sara to have privacy.

"No, that's alright. I'll call him back later."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Finn returned to the table, helping Sara sort the tools.

"If you ever feel like talking..."

Sara pursed her lips, "You ever try the long distance thing?"

"No. But I think it would have helped my relationship with husband number two."

"Ah the Seattle husband. How was that, seeing him again?"

"It was weird, and then it wasn't." She smirked.

"I wondered why you took a later flight." Sara smiled knowingly.

"What about your NTSB guy? Is that weird?"

"Very weird."

"Gonna stay that way?"

"It has to, right?" Finn could here a pang of regret in Sara's voice.

"Three years is a long time for a long-distance marriage." Finn mused aloud. "Eventually, It's—" She paused, trying to choose her words carefully, "It's understandable to let old feelings creep in when the present themselves."

Sara nodded absently. Knowing Finn was trying to tell her that just having feelings doesn't constitute as cheating, but it still felt like it.

* * *

The night went on like that. Grissom calling back every few hours, Sara ignoring his calls.

"This is Sara Sidle. Please leave a message." Grissom hung up, not wanting to leave her yet another voicemail. Suddenly he resented the fact that she identified herself as Sidle still, not Grissom. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard and exhaled. Hodges' unsolicited musings on what Sara was currently up to kept replaying in his head. And while he knew that Sara would never do anything to be unfaithful... he couldn't help but feeling like something was wrong in his gut.

They hadn't seen each other in months now. Their call less frequent and often filled with silence, not sure what to say to one another. He knew he still loved her, could feel it in heart—but something wasn't working.

Despite his best judgement he opened his laptop and searched, "Doug Willson, San Fransisco." In mere minutes he'd found him online. Young and handsome. Grissom flipped through some Google image results and stopped at a photo more that 3/4ths the way down the page.

It was Doug and Sara, her arms wrapped around him tightly, head swung back in laughter as he kissed her cheek. She looked to be in her late-twenties here, maybe 28 or 29... around the age she was when he and Sara had first met at the conference. He clicked the link to the photo, taking him to someone's Facebook page, a friend of Doug's he assumed. The friend captioned the photo "Doug and Sara closing down the Rusty Nickel—August 2000" _Three months before he'd brought her to Vegas._

Grissom laid back on his bed and stared at the white ceiling. _This isn't working_. The phrase kept creeping into his thoughts. He had no plans to return to Vegas, and she clearly had no plans to leave. It had been Three years of this and he was finally able to admit that the weight of their distance was decaying their relationship. He was aging, his hair getting white, wrinkles surfacing. But she always looked the same whenever they'd see each other—however rare that was now. She deserved someone young, someone willing to be in Vegas with her, someone she could grow old with.

It was clear at this point that children were out of the question. They hadn't talked about it since the last time their grant fell through, a year and a half ago. Grissom closed his eyes tightly, never wanting to admit how badly he'd wanted them to have a child. _If you love something, you must let them go._ A line from a poem flowed through his thoughts. He loved her so much, he knew this, but letting her go was the only way he could think to keep her happy. It would hurt at first, for both of them—he knew that. But in time, she'd forget the pain. She'd move on. She'd find someone to be with that could make her happy in all the ways he was failing to.

He let a tear drop from his eyes as he conceded to the idea of going through the rest of his life without her.

* * *

"Listen, Sara. I was just wondering if I could take you and Gil out to dinner to night. You guys pick the place, NTSB picks up the tab, I'm a hell of a third wheel."

"Actually, Gil's out of town."

"Okay, Just the two of us then?"

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Do this."

"Okay." He spoke in a resigning voice but only let a moment pass before refocusing, "But if everything is good between you two, and I know you Sara so I'm getting the feeling that maybe it isn't. And I understand—"

"Everything's great." She cut him off quickly. But he could sense that she was trying to convince herself of that fact more than he.

"Okay."

* * *

The phone rang again. She didn't even bother checking the screen, she knew it was him. This was the seventh call today, completely out of character of him. He'd never call more than three times without her at least attempting to return the call. _Maybe something was wrong?_ She considered answering but was quickly interrupted.

"Cargo plane downed." Doug's voice caused her to look up.

"No rest for the NTSB."

"Nope." They stood there facing each other.

"So I guess this is it." He shrugged a little sadly.

"Yep."

"Look, about my uh—dinner offer."

Sara shrugged him off, "Oh, don't—" She began but he cut her off.

"It's just that seeing you again, brought back a lot of good memories, Sara." They exchanged a somewhat sad smile, "Honestly It's kind of annoying how great you look."

She laughed bashfully at this, "Thanks."

"I'm glad things worked out for ya. You deserve it."

He could see some regret and sadness fill here eyes as she tried to fight it back, "Give my regards to the Bay."

"Will do." They embraced. His long arms wrapping around her, pulling her in close. She could feel his heart beating against her. Realizing how long they'd been hugging she pulled back and looked up at him. He walked away.

He didn't call back again that night, and she wasn't quite in the right mood to talk anymore.


	59. Chapter 59

A/N: We all knew this was coming, unfortunately. And while I completely disagree with the way the writers handled this (I don't think it's in their characters to get divorced) I wanted to stay true to the story. Bare with me, there's light at the end of the tunnel. Also, thanks for the comments on the previous chapter! I was afraid it would be met with poor review because of the period in their relationship, but we all knew this was coming :(

Anyway, here's #59:

* * *

"Sara. Call me when you can. We uh—We need to talk." She listened the voicemail again, detecting the inflection of his voice. Her stomach dropped. She knew if she called him he'd say something she didn't want to hear, or didn't want to discuss. It was easier just to keep ignoring his calls for now.

* * *

D.B. and Sara stood in the reporters home.

"Maybe it's in the bedroom? I know when I take work home it often ends up there."

"Yeah, you're not single, you're married."

"Yeah." He could here the slight hesitation of her voice as she spoke, "But um, my place often looks a lot like this." _Like she's single._ Was the subtext there. She smiled sadly, something not lost on D.B.

She and D.B. had become close since he'd joined the team. He reminded her a lot of Dave. They were even the same age, and looked similar with thick white hair. He actually knew Dave, strangely enough. The two had worked a case together a few years back when a serial killer had jumped the boarder from San Fransisco to Seattle. She and D.B. shared a subtle understanding of one another. Childhoods similar in a sense that they were moved around a lot, both obsessed with the details. He was a little goofy, just like Dave. She liked that.

* * *

Sara silenced her ringing phone again as she stood in the layout room. Finn looked over to see the screen.

"Have you talked to him since the NTSB guy?"

"Nothing happened with NTSB."

"How come you can't pick up the phone?"

"Because... I feel like when I do, I'm going to be very sad when I hang up."

"How do you now?" She pried softly.

"Because he wants to talk."

* * *

Sara sat on D.B.'s couch, filling him on on her and Finn's findings. Linking the fire case to their murder vic. She looked down at her hands when the conversation had come to a close. D.B. took in her appearance.

"Hey, Sara. Let me ask you something," He knew to tread lightly here, knowing Sara wasn't one to talk about herself, her feelings, what was really going on. But he knew he needed to try, "How you doing? You alright?"

"I'm fine." Her defensive walls shot up quickly.

"You just seemed a little down when we were at the Vic's place."

"Oh, um—I don't know. Woman married to her career without much to show for it." She shrugged sadly, "It's a little depressing."

"I don't mean to pry, but—"

"Pause right there."

"I know, I know, I'm your boss. Separation of church an state but—"

"No, hit pause." Sara pointed to the video he'd been watching of the newscast. The topic was dropped as Sara showed D.B. what she'd seen on the screen.

Later on, when they'd caught a moment alone together once more, D.B. Tried again.

"What's going on Sara?" His eyes were soft, filled with concern. Anyone else looking at her like that would make her angry, force her to build up walls—even with Grissom. She hated being pitted, or seen as weak. But there was something about D.B. maybe they way he reminded her of Dave, that caused her to let her guard down. "Is everything okay with you and Gil?"

 _Gil._ Perhaps it was because he'd never met Grissom. Didn't hold him to the same unbelievably high standard as everyone else in the lab, that made it easier to talk to him about this.

"He wants to talk."

"I see." D.B. took a breath. "And you don't?"

"I have a bad feeling about what he want's to talk about. And—" Her voice cracked slightly, "I'm not sure I'm ready to hear it."

"Long distance relationship are hard. My wife and I had to do it for a while, you know that." Sara nodded, trying her best to will away the tears that were threatening to form, "Without an expiration date on the distance, they're even harder." She nodded again, but stayed silent, "Sometimes love isn't enough—sometimes it is. But eventually, someone's got to step up and make the decision." He paused a moment, letting her take in his words, "Either way, dodging the calls may feel good for now, knowing you're avoiding what's to come, but eventually it just makes it all that much worse."

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Hang in there Sar—you never know what he may say until you hear him out."

Later that night when the case was closed she and D.B. stood in his office once more. Her phone ringing again, his name on the ID _again._ He looked and her, giving her silent encouragement and left his office, closing the door behind him to give her some privacy.

"Hello." Her voice was soft and crackled as she bit back tears that were already threatening to fall.

"You've been hard to get a hold of." Grissom's voice was just as soft, almost relaxed but not quite. She swallowed hard.

"Yeah. Um, I'm so sorry." She looked around the room she stood in, his old office. The office where she'd escaped to so many times for a quick moment alone together, the office where their relationship budded, took form. The office that was once filled with his quirky hobbies and experiments. "How are you?"

"I'm okay." His voice seemed resigned, it terrified her, "Is um, now a good time?"

She nodded, but quickly realizing he couldn't see her she finally spoke, "Yeah." Her voice was already betraying her, cracking.

"You seem sad."

"I have a feeling I know what you're about to say."

She could hear him breathe on the other side, softly, not expelling. "I see." There was an eerie silence between them now. She waited patiently for him to continue and eventually he did, "I think it's for the best."

He wasn't going to spell it out for her, not unless she forced him to—She knew that. But the subtext to his words caused a tear to streak down her face. Her chest tightened.

"I don't want to live my life without you, Gil." The truth in her sentiment shocked even her. He sighed sadly,

"But this isn't working."

He was right, she knew that, again. But it still hurt all the same. His voice was small but not hesitant. Like he'd rehearsed this in his head—god knows she gave him enough time to do just that, with the days of dodged calls.

He continued, "If there's something we could have done to change it, I think we would have by now."

He heard a small sob on the other end of the phone and it broke his heart.

"I wish we didn't have to do this over the phone." This admission surprised even him, he was trying to be strong for Sara but it was proving difficult when all he wanted to do was hold her, tell her it would be alright.

"Gil..." His voice trailed off her lips in a heartbreaking crackle, pleadingly.

"I think this is best for you."

"What does that mean?" She croaked.

He paused for a long while before he spoke, trying his best to choose the right words, "You deserve to be happy. To find someone who will be in Vegas with you, someone your age maybe, someone who can be there for you."

"I just want you. You make me happy." She admitted.

"Not anymore I don't." Admitting this out loud caused him pain, but he knew he needed to do this for her.

"So you're just giving up?"

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Then trust that I have your best interest at heart here." This made her sadness turn to anger instantly.

"Fine." She said almost child-like, her anger taking control. "Fine." She repeated.

"Sara..." Her name danced off his tongue.

"Yeah?" But no reply came. Just like the countless number of times that exchange has gone on before. She finally spoke to fill the silence. Her voice sad again, weak and hoarse with tears, "Do what you need to do, Gil."

"I love you." He whispered. But no reply came and he quickly realized she'd hung up the phone.

* * *

Sara took the next week off of work at D.B.'s urging. "You look like you could use the time off." He had said, not wanting to pry too much on what had happened in her call with Grissom. He'd hoped she'd take the time to go see him.

She had agreed hesitantly but knew that she needed the time to grieve. So she did what most women do when their marriages end, she ran home to her family.

"Sara?" Susan opened the door to see Sara standing there. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying, dark circles around them. She looked tired and a little lost. "Come in." Susan quickly ushered a stoic Sara in and sat her down on the couch. She left momentarily and returned with a cup of hot tea, placing it in Sara's hands.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I didn't call. I didn't really know I was coming until I was already here."

"What's wrong Sara?"

She cleared her through, "Gil and I." She braced herself to say the words she had yet to speak aloud, "We're getting divorced."

"Oh, honey." Susan wrapped Sara in a tight hug as she let herself cry for the first time since she'd had that conversation with Gil two days prior.

"I just, I can't be in my house right now."

"You'll stay here as long as you want." She nodded against Susan.

"Thank you." She spoke smally.

She spent the week there in San Fransisco, feeling comforted by Susan and Dave's presence in her life. Feeling free to reel in the pain of the loss. When she got back to Vegas the papers were at her door—she realized Grissom must have drafted them long before they'd had that conversation. Sara grabbed a beer from the fridge and skimmed over them.

Within the confines of these words, nothing was about to change. They had never merged their bank accounts, so finances stay the same. She'd never changed her name so she was still Sara Sidle. He'd given her the house in Vegas, he really had no use for it. And that was it. According to the paper her life wouldn't change at all. But it was a black and white lie. It was about to change forever and she wasn't sure if the dull ache in her heart would ever fade. She took out a piece of paper and wrote a note to Grissom to enclose within the documents:

 _Gil,_

 _I hope you find what you're looking for._

 _-S.S._

The initials were purposeful. While she'd never changed her name, she'd signed every letter or text correspondence between the two since getting married as S.G. She closed the letter in the manilla envelope and mailed it out.

She looked around her home. Evidence of their life together was everywhere, in the photos, the souvenirs they'd brought back from South America, from France. His clothing still in the drawers and in the closet. But she couldn't bring herself to rid any of it. The one thing she did do, though, was take down the photo of them that hung on the refrigerator. The one of them in 1999 in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. The one with her hand writing scribbled on the back, her phone number and email address from 12 years ago.

She placed the photo in a drawer in the living room. That was the one photo she knew she wouldn't be able to handle seeing every day. The others could stay, for now. But that photo was too much. It was almost haunting, thinking about the juxtaposition of she and Gil in 1999 versus 2012.

* * *

Weeks passed, then months. The dull ache in her heart hadn't disappeared like she'd hoped. Her thoughts were consumed with memories of him, their life together, the home they'd built. Her dreams too. So much so that she couldn't sleep any more. The pain of waking up to find him still gone was too much to bare. She'd gotten in the habit of taking sleeping pills to help her. She'd had some left over from when they were prescribed after the Natalie Davis incident.

Soon she ran out though, forcing her to see a doctor to get a refill. Which she did.

She worked more overtime in the last month than she had in all the years since she'd come back to Vegas from France. She returned to a version of herself form the early 2000's, where work was all she had in her life. She was sad. There was no denying that. It felt like an endless rain cloud hovered over her at all times. But she needed to put on a brave face, fool her colleagues into thinking she was fine. The last thing she wanted to do was to talk about it with them. To feel their pity, or perhaps their rueful comments taking Grissom's side in the divorce.

* * *

 **September 2012**

Sara sat in the resturant at the table alone. Grissom had made these reservations for the two of them months ago—long before he'd initiated the divorce. A nice resturant, a bottle of wine, a room upstairs. She woke up that morning on her birthday feeling sadder than she had the previous days. She'd looked forward to this day for months. Not because it was her birthday, but because he'd be back in Vegas to celebrate with her. She'd still taken the day off though. It was already on the schedule and she didn't want to explain to anyone why she'd be at work on her birthday. They all knew Grissom typically came to town then.

7 p.m. rolled around and Sara found herself getting dressed up to go to dinner. Now here she was, sitting at the table alone, sadly looking at a large party of people to her left, fawning over a girl whose birthday was obviously today too. She felt foolish as she sat there, drinking her wine alone. Foolish that a part of her actually thought Grissom would show up.

The waitress interrupted her thoughts as she placed a small cake with a single candle in it in front of Sara.

"What's this?" Sara looked up at her. While part of her wanted to think it was Grissom, she knew it was not. He hadn't made the mistake of birthday cake and candles since early on in their relationship.

"I uh, took a total shot in the dark." She looked up to see Tyler Wynard standing there. A smile pulled at her lips. "Please tell me I'm right?"

"Um, yeah actually—you are."

"Well in that case, happy birthday." He flashed her a big grin. Tyler was attractive, well put together, stylish man. She'd met him two weeks earlier, drunkenly made out but it stopped there. She wasn't ready to let go of Gil yet. Even kissing another man felt strange, wrong. But also good. It confused her.

"How'd you know?"

"You seem to be celebrating. And I noticed how you keep watching that party over there."

"God, it's that obvious hu?" Sara looked down slightly embarrassed. "Two forks." Sara handed him one, inviting him to sit down with her.

"Of course. Can't eat birthday cake alone."

"Well, I guess I should blow out the candle, hu?"

"Unless you want me to sing?"

"No, no. Please."

She looked down at the cake and contemplated making a birthday wish for the first time in 28 years. She stared at the dancing flame just a moment longer before leaning in and closing her eyes. It wasn't so much as a wish, she realized after blowing out the candle and watching the smoke rise. It was more of a gesture to the universe. _Gil._ She let his name sound out in her head an pictured him in her mind as she blew out the candle. She wasn't sure if she was wishing he'd come there now, come back eventually, or if she'd wish for the pain to go away.

"I hope your wish comes true." Tyler spoke, taking Sara away from the image of Gil in her mind.

"Thank you." She smiled back.

The two shared another bottle of red wine and made easy conversation. For the first time in over 12 years, she thought she could actually have feelings for someone other than Grissom. Elementary feelings, sure—but feelings nonetheless.

They stood together in the elevator now.

"This is you, 12." Tyler moved to hold the elevator door open for her but she didn't move.

"Suddenly being alone in my hotel room, doesn't sound like _that_ much fun."

He smiled and let the door close.

In his hotel room the two sat together drinking another bottle or red wine. Laughing, making fun conversation, keeping things light. They enjoyed each others company for about an hour or so when she got a text at 11 p.m.

She looked down at her phone:

 _I hope you had a wonderful day. Happy Birthday. -G_

She had spent most of her day wondering if he'd remembered it was her birthday. Wondering if he'd call. When the night started to windle and she realized he wouldn't been calling, she had decided it was for the best. But now, seeing this text, only an hour from the end of her birthday, somehow made it all worse.

Tyler sensed a change in her mood.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah—yea. I um, I'm sorry. I think I should go."

"Are you sure? Everything's alright?"

"Yeah, you know—To be honest I actually just got out of a—" It was a 7 year relationship to be factual, but it felt like 12 years. She'd thought of no one but him for 12 years she suddenly realized. She'd longed for no one else, sought no one else, fantasized about no one else for 12 years. He was the only one she'd ever remember wanting like that. And she'd had him. And now... now he was gone and those 12 years were a hard memory to swallow. "...a 12 year relationship. And I just don't think I'm ready to let go yet."

"Doesn't have to be anything serious." Tyler moved toward her and began to kiss her lips softly. She let him at first, It felt good. But then she moved away.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head, "I can't."

"Okay." He was the perfect gentleman. He walked to the door and opened it for her. "When you're done with this other guy, maybe you'll give me a call."

She smiled as she walked past him. "Yeah, maybe I will."


	60. Chapter 60

A/N: Okay guys! We're _almost_ through the thick of it. Our happily ever after should be here in the next few chapters. Get excited!

* * *

Nick and Greg processed the hotel room.

"What was she doing here anyway?"

"I don't really even think we should talk about it."

"But, I rode up in the elevator with her. She didn't mention anything."

"Greg, I'm serious. I really don't want to talk about it. Alright? Lets just try to do our job."

That's when Nick found a necklace behind the bed. He held it up.

"That's Sara's. I recognize it." Greg's face was ghostly white now. "I don't understand."

"Go process the bathroom." Nick said to Greg, not wanting to harp on hypotheticals that he knew were circulating Greg's mind.

Shortly after, Greg emerged with the shower drain cover in a clear evidence baggie. "Well this doesn't look good. Hair in the drain is not a match to our Vic, and length and color is consistent with Sara's."

Nick took in Greg's appearance, sensing his worry for Sara. "You want to check the bed or should I?" Nick was trying to sound tough, indifferent. But this was eating away at him.

"I will." Greg resigned and pulled the comforter off the bed. "It's been stripped."

"Someone took the evidence."

"Why am I so relived right now?" Greg spoke absently.

"Because you just got out of having to process sheets for seminal and vaginal fluid that very well could have been contributed by Sara."

Greg felt nauseous at hearing those words from Nick but stayed silent.

* * *

"So that's the consensus now? That I cheated on my husband?" She knew she couldn't hide the divorce for much longer. It was getting dangerous to, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it. Not to the team. Not yet.

"Betraying Grissom is like betraying God to Hodges. And in his eyes, you did."

The feeling of despair washed over her. The dull ache in her heart caused the sadness to multiply. When would it end? she wondered. This pain felt just as real to her as the dislocated shoulder she'd had after the night in the desert. Just as real as the three fractures in her arm, her broken wrist, the broken rib. She cringed at the thought of her broken rib. It was aching now for some reason and she couldn't understand why. She hadn't felt it hurt in years.

* * *

"I have a real problem with you lying to me Sara."

"I didn't lie."

"Then what were you doing with Tyler two weeks ago?" Nick stared intently at Sara, Judgingly so. It broke Sara down to see the disapproval in Nicks eyes. She had to come clean. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, a lump forming in her throat.

"You lied to me. You lied to him. And I know it's not my place to comment on your personal life—"

"You mean my cheating on my husband?" She chocked on the words, the accusations in their eyes.

Both D.B. and Nick diverted their gazes. She waited until D.B. looked back up at her to continue, "Truth is, he's not my husband anymore."

Nick looked up now, eyes almost watery, hurt for her, shocked, "Why what happened?" His voice calmed and small.

"Ask him. I'm sure he had my best interest in mind." Her voice was laced with bitterness but it betrayed her at the end of the sentence. Tears welling in her eyes. "So... yeah. Yeah. I've been struggling a little bit.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Nick's voice stayed soft and concerned.

"He's so revered around here, there's no way I don't come out looking like the bad guy."

* * *

"So you're suggesting Sara sleep-showered and doesn't remember it." Finn questioned hodges as they and Greg stood in layout.

"I'm suggesting that you have to consider any other sleep acts that could have happened. Showering, walking... even murder is certainly a possibility. Incidentally, don't you think that one of us should call Grissom?"

Greg shot a dirty look Hodges' way, "No. _One_ of us should not call Grissom."

* * *

Hodges retreated back to his lab and contemplated. _Had Grissom already been called?_ It was protocol to notify the family of an individual being held. And Sara was now being held. She was processed, wearing an orange jumpsuit, after allegedly assaulting Basderick in the garage of his workplace. Hodges didn't care what Greg had to say, he decided. He quickly picked up his work phone and dialed Grissom's number.

"Grissom."

"Hey Grissom, It's Hodges."

"How'd you get this number?"

"Not important. Look there's something you need to know. Sara's been arrested."

"Is she alright?" Hodges heard the irritation leave Grissom's voice and get replaced with concern and worry.

"Physically yes, she's fine. But she's in a lot of trouble."

"What is she charged with?"

"Right now assault. But she's suspected of stabbing her—"

"What?"

"I shouldn't be the one to tell you this but, stabbing her boyfriend. He died."

Grissom suddenly felt like he was going to vomit. His head spinning. He did his best to regain his composure, "Hodges. Should you be talking about an on going investigation with outside parties?"

The question struck him as odd, "It's protocol to inform a spouse when—"

"Hodges." He cut him off, the irritation returned to his voice, and a hint of sadness too, Hodges noted, "You shouldn't have called me. I'm not her husband anymore."

"Oh."

"Goodbye, Hodges."

Grissom hung up the phone. He felt an intense migraine coming on. His head heavy and hot, vision blurring. He quickly dialed a familiar number.

"I didn't expect to be hearing from you so soon." Dave spoke on the other end.

"Dave, I—"

"What is it, Grissom?" Grissom could hear the irritation in Dave's voice. He was short and monotone and obviously angry about how things ended with Sara. But he had to push through this awkwardness.

"I think Sara's in trouble. And it would be inappropriate, and likely unwanted for me to intervene."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I believe she's been arrested."

"Thanks, Gil. I'll get to the bottom of this."

"Wait, Dave—"

"Yeah."

"Will you let me know that she's alright?"

Dave softened a bit, hearing Grissom's desperation on the other end, "Yeah. I will."

* * *

The team stood around a layout table. Having the awkward, painful job of investigating Sara. At this point, however, they were all on the same page—Sara was being framed by Basderick.

"There was a DHS record in our files on Sara." D.B. spoke as he held up a file and watched as everyone in the team furrowed their brows. Everyone except Gregg, whose expression now was a mix of sickly green and ghostly white. "Anyone know anything about this?" Silence. He turned to Greg, "Greg?"

"I thought I got rid of that. That has nothing to do with this. We should not be looking at that." Greg started talking a million miles a minute.

"What is it?" Nick spoke up.

"It's a record of her time as a ward of the state."

"Prison?" Morgan was shocked.

"No." Greg chimed in. "D.B. this isn't relevant."

"What the hell is it?" Nick looked at Greg intensely now and realizing that it had to come out, Greg responded:

"When we were trying to find Natalie Davis, DHS was sending records of foster children that were in Dell's care. Sara's name was on the request form and some administrator there saw the name, not realizing it was as a CSI requesting the file and thought it was instead a request to release her records. So they sent them here."

"Sara was in foster care?" Nick looked confused.

Greg nodded, "It's really not right for us to be talking about this."

"Unfortunately Greg, we do need to talk about it. I read the files, and I'll spare Sara from going through the details with you all, but we need to talk about what happened to her father because it just became relevant."

"How is that relevant?" Greg challenged.

"7 Stab wounds, first one to the heart." D.B. responded directly to Greg and watched as realization washed over him.

"What does that mean?" Nick felt very out of the loop as he watched Greg and D.B. interact. Clearly Greg knew what was going on.

"Now I don't think she did this. But for some reason all physical evidence is pointing to her. Including this. Everyone here knows about her Mother?"

Nods. Nick had only found out about Sara's mother's situation a few years ago after working a hoarding case together. But he didn't know much more than her diagnosis.

"Tyler was stabbed seven times. The same amount of times Laura Sidle stabbed Richard."

"Richard?" Nick squinted.

"Her father." Greg answered for D.B. "How would Basderick know about that?" D.B. shrugged in response.

"I don't know. But I think he got his hands on this report, and replicated her Father's murder."

"That's sickening." Morgan spoke almost under her breath.

Suddenly everything fell together for Nick and he felt sick to his stomach. Nick realized just how bad of a day Sara was truly having: On her birthday, a man she was using to get over her divorce from Grissom was killed in a mimicked version to that of her father's death. On top of all of this, Sara had to rush to the hospital where her schizophrenic mother was being monitored after an episode. Nick could think of zero other ways in which this day could possibly get worse for her.

* * *

Eventually the truth came out and the sting operation deemed successful. Nick and the officers rushed into Basderick's house and arrested him after he fired blank bullets at sara.

Tears now fell from Sara's eyes as she quickly wiped at them. Nick turned to her and hugged her tightly. "It's over." He held her there like that for a long while. Just moments earlier he'd heard Basderick admit that he made Tyler's murder look like the murder of Sara's father. Nick couldn't imagine what Sara was going through right now, reliving that night, feeling the pain of her divorce, being accused of murder herself. He couldn't let go of her.

* * *

She made her way to the hospital knowing that her mother was being discharged soon.

"There are so many things I wish I'd done differently. And most of them I can't change now. But mostly, what I would like to try and change, is the way things are between us. Maybe we could visit once in a while? I just want you to be okay."

"I'm fine. I'm great." She reassured her mother.

"So you didn't kill that man?"

"No mom."

"Thank goodness." There was a long pause, "I'm sorry to hear about you and Gil. I liked him."

Sara nodded sadly as she pushed her mother out in a wheelchair, "Me too."

* * *

Back at the lab, after D.B. reinstated her, Sara stood in the break room and got herself a cup of coffee. She turned around to see Nick and Greg entering the room, closing the door behind them.

"Little late for an intervention. Don't you think?"

"I just thought—"

"We." Greg Corrected.

" _We,_ just thought it might be a good idea to talk."

"...Or listen, whatever you prefer."

Sara smiled at her colleagues, her friends, her family. "Have a seat." She motioned to the table and the three sat together. She took a tentative sip of her hot coffee and finally spoke, "I didn't mean to shut you guys out. I didn't tell you about Grissom and me mainly because I didn't really believe it myself. You know we made that dinner reservation together before we split up and as I sat there alone in the resturant, I honestly expected him to show up."

"What happened, Sara?" Nick asked with concerned eyes, "I never saw this coming."

"Neither did we, really. I'd like to say it happened all of a sudden, but the truth is, is that it's been coming for a long time. Neither of us wanted to be the one to admit it. Grissom just took the step to do something about it, I realize now." She paused momentarily before continuing, "You know, I was only supposed to be here for a month or two until you found a replacement. But then, I guess I got comfortable, and started to enjoy the work again and I didn't want to leave."

Nick and Greg nodded knowingly.

She continued, "Grissom doesn't want to be in Vegas, and the long-distance just wasn't working I guess. Our paths diverged somewhere along the way and we couldn't figure out how to bring them back together."

"I think we all like the idea of you two being together. And maybe that's because that was our way of hanging on to him a little bit. But—if its over, its over." Nick said comfortingly.

"Hey you can't sit around waiting forever." Greg spoke regarding her and Tyler, that she shouldn't feel bad about what did or did not happen there.

"Thank you for not giving up on me." She responded sadly.

"Silver lining: No kids involved. I'm sure that makes divorce that much less messy."

Sara couldn't breath after Greg's statement. Little did he know the conversations she and Grissom had had once upon a time. The shared vision they'd have of creating a life together and raising that child in Northern France or in San Fransisco. She could still picture the face of the child she'd conjured up in her mind: It was always a boy to her, a little boy with ice blue eyes and thick brown hair, a dimpled chin and an insatiable curiosity.

A single moment of silence longer and she may have cried right then and there at the thought, but the three of them quickly looked up to see a man opening the break room door. Greg and Nick watched as Sara stood quickly.

"Dave?" She rushed over to him and hugged him tightly. He rocked her back and forth slightly, "What are you doing here?"

"I got the first flight out I could."

Greg and Nick exchanged curious looks as they watched the scene play out.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine now... How'd you know about this."

"What are you talking about, I'm here for your birthday." He said with a classic Dave grin.

"Dave..." She pressed.

"The lab community is pretty tight knit." Was all Dave would say, and while Sara wasn't satisfied with that answer, she didn't feel much like prying.

"Dave, these are my colleagues Nick and Greg. Guys, this is Dave Crow—my—" She paused. She'd always introduced him as her former supervisor but it just didn't feel right anymore. And now that Greg and Nick knew a bit about her past, her next words wouldn't need as much explaining, "My father in a way."

"Nice to meet you sir." Nick and Greg both moved to shake Dave's hand. Greg, of course had known about Dave. He'd learned about him more when he'd visited Sara in San Fransisco all those yeas ago after she'd left Vegas. And he'd known about him from the DHS reports he'd accidentally read when Sara had gone missing at the slight of Davis' hand.

Dave quickly wrote a text and returned his phone to his pocket. The text read:

" _She's safe and exonerated. It's all over. -DC"_

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he knew what the message would likely be " _Thank you. -G"_

* * *

Grissom laid in bed that night, feeling emotions he had no name for. He tried to open his large book of Shakespearian Sonnets in an attempt to compartmentalize what he was feeling, but it became unbearable to read any of them. Each and every sonnet read made him think of her. Forced her image into his mind, her soft brown hair, deep chocolate orbs, that sidle-famous grin. He could almost smell that lavender scent in his olfactory.

 _She was safe. She was fine._ Grissom kept repeating in his head. He and Sara had only spoken once since that phone call they'd had deciding to get divorced. One that was filled with silence and cold, monotoned, staccato verbiage, where the goal was to divi up their assets.

This proved to be a fairly easy task, neither wanting anything from the other, and the only shared asset in their names—the Vegas house—was easily given to her with no problem. He sighed thinking about what a divorce would have been like if they'd had a child together two years ago like they'd planed. But as he thought about it, he realized that a divorce would never have come about had they gone through with creating a life. Because if they'd taken that step, they'd be in the same city. Grissom quickly realized that this relationship had been over since the moment the seized talking about children. The obstacle they faced then was the same one as today, it just took two years for either of them to admit it.

Still, he couldn't help but to replay all of his favorite moments of them together in his mind, regardless of how sad it made him. He missed her with every beat of his heart, but he knew this was for the best. She'd be happy one day with someone else. That thought was rather conflicting for Grissom. Because one part of him wanted nothing more than for her to move passed this and find happiness with someone else. The other part of him knew for a solid fact, that he could never do the same. Sara was the only person he could ever love, and he'd let her go—he'd let her free.

For the first time since all of this mess began, he let himself cry. He curled up in his bed all alone and let the hot tears streak down his face. As he did he realized the last time he'd cried was when Sara sent him that video from the Sea Shepard... when he'd sought the comfort of his friend Heather, and laid in her guest bed and cried himself to sleep.


	61. Chapter 61

**November 2014**

Life goes on. It's something Sara'd been accustomed to in her life. She was tough, strong. All the events that had taken place in her life to get her to where she was today made her this way. The divorce, now two years behind her, was just another challenge to make her stronger, more emotionally resilient. At least that's what she told herself in order to get past it.

Now, two years later, life went on. She continued to be D.B.'s star pupil, maxed out on overtime every month, devoted her life to her work. But that was about it for her. She couldn't bring herself to date, it was too complicated in every aspect. Firstly, no one outside the forensics field would understand the long hours, unplanned early call ins, and burden of the job. This left having to fish off the company pier, something Sara knew she couldn't do again. Every aspect of a potential relationship with anyone she worked with—whether it be a detective, EMT, or what have you—would cause to many parallels to the good days with Grissom. But beyond any of that, she simply had no desire to. She'd had her one love, and she knew that nothing would compare. _Why waste her time?_ She thought.

But there was one thing outside of work that Sara had going on. Eli. The team had been reconnected with Warrick's son after Tina got into some trouble a couple years back. At the time, Eli had to be taken to foster care pending the investigation and rehabilitation of Tina—Tina who they found to be raising Eli in an unfit home filled with drugs and mess.

"I'll take him." Sara assured Tina when this was all happening, "I just expedited the paperwork to become his foster parent. He'll be in good hands, and when this is all over you'll have him back." She'd watched Tina sob at her words.

Sara couldn't let Eli grow up in foster care, even if it were to only be six months or so. So she'd fixed up the guest bedroom and turned it into Eli's temporary room. And as promised, Eli returned home to the care of his mother once she was back on her feet. The whole ordeal turned out to be good for Sara too as most of this was going on just shortly after finalizing the divorce. Eli had been a great distraction.

Even now, Sara goes over to their house a few times a month to check in on them, make sure they've got everything they need. She'll spend a few hours helping Eli with his homework or just hanging out with him, creating a strong bond with the boy.

And once a year—which was twice now since she became a part of Eli's life—Sara would take a picture of a Eli on the anniversary of Warrick's death and send it to Grissom. Eli, who was a spitting image of his father right down to his piercing green eyes. She'd write up a few short paragraphs on what Eli's been up to—school related successes, personal life, milestones accomplished. It was the only contact they'd had after the divorce. And after receiving the letter Grissom would text her, "Thank you."

* * *

Grissom picked up his mail. In the two years since the divorce he'd gotten a place out in Santa Monica to be closer to his mother—though he was rarely ever there. His life had continued to be filled with traveling, consulting work and explorations. But soon he'd be joining a new cause—A new journey. He'd be working to preserve sharks in international waters with one of the leading organizations on the forefront of that mission. He'd gotten himself a charter boat not too long ago, it's final sale going through today, actually. In just a few hours he'd be back on the doc signing the final paperwork.

He threw his keys on the table and flipped through the mail: Bills, newsletters from his alma maters, more bills and—a letter from Sara. He glanced toward the calendar, realizing quickly that the anniversary of Warrick's death was in two day's. He sighed, _how has it been so long?_ The pain of Warrick's death was something Grissom carried around with him every day. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of his fallen colleague, _the son he'd never had._

Grissom tore open the envelope and let the photo slide out. He slowly lowered himself to a chair at the table and looked over the photo, smiling at how much Eli was growing. He opened the accompanying letter, noting that Sara tried her best to slow her penmanship so that it was legible, but it was still chicken scratch. He smiled.

 _Gil,_

 _Eli is doing well. I continue to visit with him a few times each month and he's grown so much—both physically and personally. He just turned ten a few weeks ago. He's excelling at math, science and history but is still having trouble with english—he's not a big reader. But he's working hard. He's perceptive and caring, always volunteering to help in anyway he can._

 _He's growing fast too, already 5 feet tall with no end in sight. Tina is doing well, she's gotten herself back on track, cleaned up her act and got a nursing job and a senior citizen's facility in Henderson. All in all, Eli has a good life. Warrick would be proud._

 _Until next year—  
S.S._

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose hard and closed his eyes. Warrick's image came to his mind instantly. He'd let it sit there for a moment longer, searching the details of his face for the similarities in that of Eli's. A small smiled danced on his lips at the thought of Sara tutoring Eli, spending time with him. It warmed his heart to know that she could be there for him.

He'd wanted to see Eli the last time he was in Vegas. He was there just a few months ago to attend the funeral of Heather Kessler's granddaughter. He and Heather continued to share a subtle communication over the years. They were each other's only friends really—the only people that always been there for them. He'd wanted to see Eli then, but thought it'd be inappropriate so he did not.

Grissom made his way to the docks.

"Gilbert." A deep voice called from the end of the doc. "I'll be right there."

Grissom waited for the man to dismount from the boat he was on and walk up the dock to meet him. He extended his hand, offering a tight gripped handshake. "You ready to do this?"

"I am." Grissom spoke with a smile. The idea of setting off to Sea excited him immensely. He believed in the work this organization was doing and it afforded him the opportunity to be part of something bigger while still maintaining his loner status.

"What are we naming her?" The boat salesman asked as he handed Grissom the final paperwork.

"Ishmael."

"Hu, didn't take you for the biblical type."

Grissom just smiled in return and signed the papers. A week later he'd return to these very docs and see his boat, the word "Ishmael" now painted across it.

* * *

 **September 2015**

"Sara. I know you're vying for the directorship." D.B. spoke slightly hushed to Sara as the rest of the team took their positions across the casino to investigate the explosion. "The stage doesn't get much bigger than this, you want the case?"

She nodded, "Good it's yours. What do you think? First blush?"

"Terrorism."

"Why do you say that?"

"Vegas is terrified."

Sara took the reigns leading the team to comb through the casino's debris. She was already rallying the troops, doing her best to bring up morale. She knew this was going to be a lengthy investigation, and she needed everyone to bring their A game.

* * *

Greg and Morgan now stood in D.B.'s office handing over the clear evidence baggy with the gold square inside it. The gold square that they've now concluded to have flown out of the bomber's breast pocket at the time of the explosion. After some work in the lab, Greg was able to extrapolate the etching on the gold square to reveal the initials "LHK". After a quick search, he'd realized it's link to Heather Kessler.

"So who is Lady Heather?" D.B. asked while examining the contents of the evidence baggie.

"She's a sex therapist Grissom had a thing for back in the heyday. Not like a sexual one—More like an intellectual one." Greg quickly refocused at the sight of D.B.'s indifference to the past escapades of the CSI team members from long ago, "Anyway, he worked a couple cases with her—And against her."

"So what do we think? That she has some involvement here?"

"We don't know." Morgan spoke up, "But we'd like to know why a piece of metal with Lady Heather's initials on it few out of our bomber's jacket."

Just then Ecklie emerged in the doorway, causing both Morgan and Greg to turn. "Lady Heather? Again?" Ecklie walked into the room further to talk. "Too bad our Lady Heather expert is no longer here." He paused a moment to think, "Maybe Sara knows where he is?"

"I don't know if that's a great idea. I don't think we need Grissom here just because he has a history with someone who may or may not be involved in this."

"It's a high profile case, and I think it makes sense to exhaust every bit of help we can get."

"Do what you need to do." D.B. nodded to Ecklie, giving him the unneeded approval to bring in external help.

* * *

Sara walked out of the lab to head to her car when she was stopped in her tracks by the sound of Ecklie's voice shouting her name.

 _Ecklie._ It's funny how some relationships can change so drastically with time. When Sara first came to Vegas, Ecklie was like the stereotypical antagonist that everyone loved to hate. He was always jumping ahead of evidence, siding with media, doing the bare minimum to get a conviction and getting in the Grave Shit Team's way. Now, all these years later, Ecklie had changed. He'd become the asset the lab needed and a proven friend of the teams.

She turned around to face him.

"This is going to sound like an odd question," Ecklie began, "But do you know where Grissom is?"

Sara couldn't even hide the shock on her face. No one really ever even brought him up anymore since their divorce was made public. "Grissom?" Her voice proved just as shocked.

"Yeah."

"Let me see. Grab a globe. Spin it. Look for the blue and pick an ocean. He could be anywhere. Why?"

"We think Lady Heather might have something to do with the bombing?

"Lady Heather?" The news of the gold square had yet to make its way to her, "Well... even if she did, what would that have to do with my ex-husband?"

"Lady Heather is in the wind. Alright? We're getting a warrant for her house as we speak."

Sara shook her head in obvious conclusion, still not seeing what this had to do with Grissom.

Ecklie continued, "C'mon if anybody knows this woman inside and out it's Grissom. I figured he could provide some deeper insight—"

She cut him off, "Conrad. With all due respect this entire building is working the bombing case. Greg and I have history with Lady Heather. We've got it covered."

"I know Sara but this bombing is international news now. I'd feel better if we at least exhaust all our resources. Do you at least have his cell?"

Sara laughed, "Yeah—But I haven't called it in over two years so I don't know if its still his number." Ecklie of all people should understand that. His divorce in the early 2000's is what caused him to be such a stick in the mud early on.

* * *

Ecklie gave the number a try.

"Hello?"

"Grissom?"

"No." The coast guard cadet explained the situation Grissom was in. Late last night they'd found him trespassing another fisherman's vessel. His hands covered in blood of Shark fins. Now Grissom Sat on the dock, hand cuffed. Waiting to be charged.

The coast guard cadet allowed Ecklie to speak with Grissom. He held the phone to his ear:

"Well if that's the case Ecklie I'll need to come down there. But you're going to have to get me out of this first."

"Alright put him on."

Grissom glanced back to the coast guard who then took the phone to his own ear.

"Let him go."

 _Finally_ , Grissom thought, _It paid to have Ecklie on his side._

"You sure about this Sheriff?"

"Yes. And give him a lift to the airport. His flight takes off in two hours."

"Alright. I'll arrange transport and relinquish him into your custody."

"It's your lucky day pal. I'd tell you not to leave town but it looks like you're going to Sin City."

Grissom sighed. He'd heard chatter about what happened in Vegas as the other cadet's spoke amongst themselves. He knew it was a grave shift case. He knew he'd need to go into the lab. He knew he'd be seeing Sara.

Sara. That's what frightened him the most. He hadn't spoken to her since the divorce, he knew nothing about what was going on in her life—except her annual updates of Eli. Until this point, he'd been able to keep his last good memories of being with her at the forefront of his mind, discarding the bad ones toward the end of their relationship. But now that would all most likely be undone when he'd see her again. He was terrified of getting in her cross hairs, knowing full well that an angry Sara is not something one would ever want to be on the receiving end of.

"Vegas." He spoke stoically.

* * *

Grissom walked into the lab for the first time in six years.

"Sir? Can I help you." The woman behind the receptionists desk was not Judy. This took Grissom aback instantly.

"I'm here to see Ecklie. Gil Grissom."

"Yes. Mr. Grissom, he left this vistor's badge for you. He said you'd know where to go." Grissom took the badge and pocketed in, not bothering to clip it to his shirt and walked on. Down the hallowed hallways. People walked past him, not giving him a second look. People he'd never seen before, where knew department lab coats. He looked around, the equipment was unlike anything he'd ever seen, people he did not know oppressing it. The whole place seemed starkly different. Of course he knew life moved on once he left, but it was another thing entirely to see it.

A young redheaded girl walked briskly past him as he stood by his old office.

"Dr. Grissom!" A voice spoke hesitantly. He turned to see the same redhead girl had turned back around after passing him. "Oh my god! Hi! Welcome back! It's been a long time since I saw you last! But, oh hey—check it out. CSI level 1! She spoke exuberantly. "I did it! You know what the crazy thing is!?" She whispered her next words, "It's my first day." He watched as she glowed, talking to him animatedly so. _Who is this girl? And why does she know him?_ He listened on as she continued, "Do you want to take my blood or offer be a chocolate covered grasshopper?" Grissom furrowed his brows—he hadn't done that since Holly Gribbs joined the team... And this girl was far too young to have been around then, "Oh but I've got to go, It was great to see you! As always. See ya!" and with that she turned to leave.

Grissom watched her disappear down the hallway, feeling completely out of place and confused. He turned back around to continue down the hall to look for Ecklie. Upon turning on his heels his breath caught in his throat.

"Sara." Her name slipped from his tongue instinctively.

"Gil." Her voice was soft and calm, mimicking his own.

He felt awkward suddenly, "I'm back." He offered.

"I see that."

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing would come out. He couldn't breathe. His palms started to pulse with the quickened beating of his heart. She looked amazing. Beautiful—even more so than the images of her he'd kept preciously tucked into the corners of his mind.

"Gil!" Saved by Ecklie. He shook his hand, "Thanks for coming in. Let's step into D.B.'s office." Ecklie moved past him to cross the threshold into D.B.'s office—once Gil's.

"Who's D.B.?" Grissom mouthed to sara with furrowed brows. _Is that some sort of poor attempt of a nickname for a CSI? Dead Body?_

The three gathered in the office.

"D.B., Grissom." Ecklie introduced the two.

"Hi, I'm Diebenkorn Russle. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." D.B.'s eyes darted toward Sara, to make sure she was alright. A gesture not unnoticed by Grissom.

"My brains used to sit on that shelf." Grissom spoke a bit nostalgically, realizing this was the first time in his old office since the day he left for Costa Rico.

"Yeah. I traded in the brains for mushrooms. Hope you don't mind."

"Gil, we could really use some insights on Lady Heather. The most pressing issue is this." D.B. handed Ecklie the gold square to show to Grissom, "At the blast sight we found a piece of Gold Metal with the letters LHK inscribed on it." Grissom looked at the evidence baggie, now within his old.

"Well that's her logo but I don't know what this is."

"When's the last time you spoke with her?"

"Few days ago. By phone."

"Guess your cell service is better than it used to be." Sara spoke without thinking of the mixed company they were in.

They were interrupted by Catherine who walked briskly into the office. "Gil!" She moved in to hug him.

"Sara your warrant came in." Ecklie handed Sara the paper, "Lady Heather's house is all yours."

"Good, Grissom and I will go check it out." Eyebrows raised by everyone, especially Grissom and Catherine. Grissom suddenly felt very nervous. "I'll meet you by the car." Sara left the office to head for the locker room.

"Good luck with that." Catherine spoke through a somewhat amused grin.

"Want to give me a heads up? What am I in for?"

Catherine simply laughed in response, "Beats me. I was already gone when you two split up." She turned toward D.B. silently inviting him to join in.

"It's not really my place to comment."

"Uh hu," Grissom nodded slowly.

"But you better get out there, she doesn't like to be kept waiting." D.B. said somewhat encouragingly.


	62. Chapter 62

The drive to Lady Heather's home was eerily silent for Sara. As she maneuvered the car through the weaving streets, turning as the GPS told her to.

"It's faster if you take Lake Road." He spoke after they'd been in the car for fifteen minutes. His suggestion competing with that of the GPS's.

"Oh." Was all she said as she turned onto Lake, the GPS rerouting." She didn't want to think about how he knew that. How he knew the best route to get there. Lady Heather had always been a sore subject between the two, a heavy weight on their relationship's shoulders, a mostly unspoken hurdle they had to delicately dance around.

He stared forward, eyes fixated on the road as if he were the one driving. Every once in a while he'd sneak a look and glance at her. He'd been rushed before and was unable to really take in her appearance. But now, alone in the car, he was able to steal looks, take in her beauty. Even with thin angry lips she was beautiful. Her brown hair seemed richer, eyes brighter, skin glowing. She looked well rested, _happy._ She really had regained her life here.

Sara kept her eyes straight forward. She could feel tension in her jaw, she was trying actively not to clench. _She wouldn't be the one to speak._ She decided. _She couldn't._ Not after all this time. His presence beside her, sitting in the passenger seat was unnerving to her. They'd been worlds apart since the divorce, since long before it too. Having him in the same town, in the same car—It was intoxicating, there was no better word for it.

Most of all, Sara was angry—mainly at herself. She'd spent the last two years compartmentalizing every feeling she'd had for this man. A box in her mind labeled, _to have and lost,_ where she'd stored all of their memories together, sealed it up and tried her best not to get nostalgic of. She'd been doing a great job not thinking of him, to be honest. She'd devoted her life to her work, her work family. She thought she'd really moved past it, moved past him.

But then, seeing him again, feeling her heart flutter as she looked into his ice blue eyes... she was angry at herself that she'd had that response. That her stomach fluttered, her breath caught, that her hands felt hot. _It wasn't fair._ That box of memories and feelings she'd sealed up in her mind burst open at the sight of him, everything rushed back.

Sara pulled up to the house and parked the car. She opened the car door and got out, Grissom did the same.

"Wow. 30 minutes in the car. Now words. If you were playing that silent car game, you definitely win." She finally spoke.

"I thought we _were_ talking." Sara rolled her eyes at this. His socially awkward tendencies were clearly back to their early 2000's levels. When they were together, Grissom had gotten so much better at expressing himself, of understanding her and her feelings, of being human. But this statement he'd just uttered let her know that in the past two years since the divorce, he'd thought they were still friends, thought that there was no hard feelings between them.

"Alright, listen." She spoke as the walked up the stairs to Heather's porch. He turned to face her as she pulled off her sunglasses, "Before we go in there and deal with Lady Heather, I just want to acknowledge that you and I haven't spoken much since the divorce—Or before it for that matter. We both went our separate ways. You're doing your Jacques Cousteau thing, I'm in the field. I get it—But you and I are professionals, and as professionals I think it's in the best interest of the case if we put on a unified front. You know, work as a team?" She was proud of herself as she spoke, her voice kept an even pace and pitch, showing she was in control, not wavering. And it was taking every bit of strength she had to step up and speak up, to be the bigger person here—despite all of the conflicting feelings she was experiencing in his presence.

"Okay?" She continued with a forced grin, "Let's put on our game faces and—and keep it professional. See?" She waved her hand in front of her face, her grin getting faker by the minute, "Mine's on." She couldn't read him. His dark shaded glasses still sat perched on his nose, obscuring any emotion that she'd be able to read, roadblocking any sense of understanding he may be showing. "You ready to go in?"

He watched as these emotions played out through her face, and while he heard her, he wasn't quite listening. He beauty was blinding to him. He wanted desperately to reach out and touch her face, feel her warmth below his fingertips. But he knew he couldn't. That deep feeling of regret bubbled to the surface again. And without thinking much, or acknowledging the monologue she'd just performed for him he spoke, "Seeing you again left me a little speechless."

This was meet with a Sidle eye roll, one he'd become very familiar with over the years. And he quickly realized this maybe wasn't the best thing to say. He watched as she shook her head in small gestures was walked past him toward the front door. He followed obediently.

Sara looked back at Grissom and he sensed the worry in her posture. This thought was corroborated by her unholstering her gun. He stood behind her as they entered Lady Heather's house, the door already ajar. What they found inside caused Grissom's stomach to drop. Blood, the living room was turned upside down, blood pooled and splattered everywhere. The home was far too large for Sara to clear herself especially with Grissom not carrying. She quickly radioed for uniforms to show up.

They stood outside the house as they waited. Sara leaned against the Tahoe.

"How uh, how have you been?" Grissom touched his fingertips together in that tentative way he often did.

"I'm good." She nodded, she didn't want to give him much more than that. "You?" She added cordially.

"Good. Good." He nodded even more hesitantly. He leaned on the car next to her now, their shoulders mere inches apart. He felt her shift a bit away from him. "You look beautiful."

"Gil, don't."

"Don't what?" He asked innocently, honestly.

"This. Whatever it is you're doing. You can't—After all these years, you just can't. Please." Her last word was beggingly soft and he'd suddenly felt very guilty. But he couldn't quite tell why.

For him, by all accounts, the divorce was mutual, amicable. He' thought she'd be fine, bounce back, find someone new. But her body language now told him otherwise and he was beginning to feel immense regret for ever letting her go.

He watched as she tensed up, arms folded, eyes diverted. Just then two patrol cars rolled up. The cadets made their way into the home. Fifteen minutes later, a long and silent fifteen minutes later, the cadets emerged from the house, "Code 4."

"Thanks, guys." Sara pushed herself off the car, grabbed her kit and walked inside. She worked the scene, taking photos and swabbing the blood. She felt Grissom come up behind her, watching her work. She did her best to ignore him, not let him fill her thoughts as she focused on collecting the evidence.

"Alright." She said standing after she'd finally finished processing the immediate scene. "Let's head back."

* * *

Sara walked up the hill to the leveled out ground where Grissom and Henry were putting the the final touches on the bomb experiment. She watched as Grissom came into view, sitting under the tented area, fiddling with a control. Wearing that silly straw hat. _That straw hat._ She smiled internally. She'd loved how goofy he looked in that hat, remembering the first time he admitted that he loved her, wearing that while walking to a crime scene.

 _"Sex without love is pointless, it makes you sad."_

 _"I'm pretty sure I don't make you sad."_

 _"No. You make me happy."_

 _That almost cryptic way he had about his was once so endearing to her, so lovable. But now it angered her. She wished he could just talk to her, tell her what was on his mind. Be transparent about what he was feeling._

Her feet took her closer to them. Still gazing at that goofy straw hat perched atop his head. It looked like it'd taken a beating—worse than it looked after their trip through South America. She smiled at this too. Remember a particular canoe ride where his hat flew off and they'd paddled up stream to get it back.

"I see I'm right on time." Sara spoke as she came into ear shot of the two.

"Okay. Bombs hot! Behind the wall." Grissom spoke, as the three scurried to the safe detention place.

* * *

Grissom and Sara now stood in the empty school auditorium. One that was filled just an hour earlier with parents and children, happy smiling faces and singing voices. Now, a bomb site with two casualties.

"It doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't the bomber take out every man, woman and child when she could?"

"I think whoever was on the other end of that earpiece was in the process of trying to exercise control. I think he was sending us a message."

"He? You don't even think its a possibility that Lady Heather was on the other end of that earpiece?"

"I don't." He spoke softly as the two continued to look around the blast site.

"Gil." Her voice was strong and stern now, "She's a puppeteer, she's been controlling and manipulating people for years.

"So, according to _your_ theory: Lady Heather is the dominate giving orders and the female bomber is the submissive, taking orders. Right?"

"Right."

"By rule, the dominate is not allowed to hurt the submissive. And if they do, the submissive is allowed to use the safe word and discontinue the pain."

"This is not some fetish game." She was shaking her head as she looked at him, feeling like she almost didn't know this man standing before her anymore.

"Sara. Heather would never hurt anyone with the intent to kill. Especially not innocent people and children. It goes against everything she stands for therapeutically." He watched as something washed over Sara, her face tensing, lips tightening.

"What was your safe word with her?" Her eye bored into his.

"Stop." He said strongly. And while that was, in fact, his safe word with Heather, he meant it more for Sara to stop this.

She nodded knowingly, "We certainly could have used that word today."

He could feel his own body tensing now, the tension between them making it hard for him to breathe. _What happened?_ He exhaled hard, _how did we get here?_ He watched as Sara turned on her heels and exited the auditorium.

* * *

A little while later she walked down the school's halls to find Grissom in an empty classroom. She herself was trying her best to exercise control. Blowing up at him wasn't helping anyone here. She took a deep breath before entering.

"I talked to the principal. The woman who blew herself up was a teacher here." She watched as he opened and closed the teacher's desk drawers.

"This is her classroom." He offered, having already known the information Sara presented.

"According to him, she'd been put on intermittent leave for mental instability. The school district paid for a therapist. You'll never guess the name: Dr. Kessler. What kind of a person straps a bomb to her chest and self-detonates it at a school?" She watched as Grissom's brows raised, his obvious tell that he'd found something of interest.

He picked up a bouquet of flowers from the desk. "Someone under the influence of Devil's Breath."

"Devil's Breath." Sara repeated as she thought for a moment, "Is that the same flower that we stumbled upon in Columbia? The one Pierre warned us about?"

"It is." He looked up at her, locking his eyes to hers, he smiled, "Remember we'd lost track of the hiking trial and sat down to rest and recalibrate our maps when that local came yelling out at us to move away."

Sara laughed softly, remembering the moment Grissom described, "I do. iAléjate! ¡Apoyo!" She imitated the local.

"You remember your Spanish." He smirked as he bagged the flowers.

"Un poco." She replied, "It was never very good to begin with."

* * *

The team stood in an AV lab now as Grissom presented his findings.

"Burundanga, the most dangerous drug in the world. It grows rapid in South America. One wiff of it's airborne pollen and the recipient relinquishes all control. They'll do anything on command. From emptying their bank accounts to a total stranger to putting on a suicide vest. My theory is that whoever is behind the bombings gave these to her just before the school play."

"So, what are the connections between the two bombers?" Greg spoke, looking between his colleagues.

"Both were patients of Lady Heather." Sara offered.

"Is she the co-conspirator in all this? Or the mastermind?" Catherine looked toward Grissom as she spoke, taking in his body language.

"I think she's being framed." He finally spoke, knowing it wouldn't be received well. He looked up to see the furrowed brows, and slightly disapproving looks.

"Uh—Grissom has this theory that Lady Heather is being framed. Even though he doesn't have a motive and making every argument to validate her innocence goes against everything he's ever taught us about the sanctity of evidence points to her." She let her eyes linger on him as she ended her statement.

"Everything you say is true." He shrugged. "So who else could it be? Who might have access to things they shouldn't have access to?"

"I think I need to go back and search Heather's house." The team nodded approvingly.

"I'll come with you." Brass spoke and Sara nodded in agreement.

The team stood to make their way out of the room, "Sara, could you hang back a minute." Greg spoke.

"Sure." She watched as Grissom, Catherine and Brass exited. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to check in with you. Make sure you're doing alright."

"Yeah I'm fine, why?"

Greg smiled knowingly, "Oh, I don't know..." He pushed.

"Yeah. I'm okay, really."

"Okay." He smiled and hugged her tightly, rocking her back and forth.

"I'm really fine." She tried again, "I don't need a hug."

"I do." At his she laughed.

Grissom and Catherine stood just outside the doorway talking. Grissom's eyes kept bouncing between Catherine speaking and Sara and Greg inside the room, hugging and laughing.

"Have you two talked?" Catherine spoke a bit more softly. He refocused on her.

"No."

"You going to?"

He simply shrugged in return.

* * *

"Dr. Kessler!" Sara called as she ran after the woman who'd just walked out of the house and toward a car. "Dr. Kessler!"

Jim moved toward the car as they watched her get in, "Heather!"

Then, the explosion. A hot ball of fire engulfed the car and blasted outward, catching brass in it's furry. Sara quickly ran to the car and grabbed the fire extinguisher, blasting short bursts at Brass.

"Jim!" Sara caught him from falling once the flames were out. "You okay!?"

"Im okay, I'm alright." He began to topple over and she caught him once more, grabbing onto him tightly.

"Whoa, whoa whoa. You have some thermal burns. Alright? We need to get you to the hospital. Just stay with me alright? Hold onto me." He nodded obediently.

"This is CSI Sidle. I need an ambulance and the fire department." Sara radioed in.

* * *

She walked into the lab, Grissom immediately rushing toward her.

"Are you alright?" His voice exasperated worry.

"I'm fine." She spoke evenly, "I just took Brass to the hospital to get checked out, he's going to be okay."

"Thank god."

"Heather wasn't so lucky."

"I heard." His voice was laced with deep rooted sadness, and Sara began to feel badly for the cold manner in which she'd been treating him.

"She was just transported to Doc. Robbins. Catherine is there now."

Grissom nodded sadly and turned to make his way there.

* * *

He stood over the body, taken in its charred sight.

"I'm sorry, Gil." He heard Catherine speak, but he just stared at the body more. He picked up one of its hands, and noticed that there were no rings on it. The other hand too. He quickly exited without speaking a word.

Catherine glanced between Dave and Robbins.

"Still the same old Grissom." Robbins spoke, commenting on his socially awkward tendencies.

* * *

"Thanks for meeting me here." Heather spoke softly as Grissom slid into the booth across her.

"I have to bring you in. Everyone in law enforcement thinks you're responsible for these bombings."

"I am."

* * *

Sara watched as Grissom and Heather walked down the hall toward her and the team. Their proximity close, his hand on the small of her back, leading her. An intimate gesture she couldn't fathom Grissom doing to her ever again. Her lips were thin with anger, jaw clenched. Just the very sight of Heather made her skin crawl.

An officer lead Heather into the interrogation room leaving Grissom to stand in front of the team alone. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets, shoulders raised.

"I haven't spoken to her about the case, but she's come in here voluntarily so, please treat her with respect." His eyes narrowed in on Sara at the end of his sentence. A gesture that just made Sara more angry.

"Of course." She stared right back at him, almost tempting him to challenge her again.

Grissom made himself scarce, knowing it'd be slightly inappropriate for him to listen in on the interrogation.

"I'll start." Sara spoke, her voice already laced with distain, "As much as I'd like to roll out the voluntary red carpet and welcome you here to your own bombing party, I can't find it in my bones to overrule my gut—So I'm just going to ask you the obvious question: Are you, or are you not, behind the bombings?"

"Your hostility connotes jealousy and resentment. It doesn't suit you Sara."

"You know what, I'm not in the mood Heather. I'd like you to answer my question."

"And I'd like some more tea." Heather's sly look and sideways glances were getting under Sara's skin.

"What about the woman who was in your home? Who got in your car and blew up?" Catherine interjected.

"I don't know who she is. I'm guessing whoever is setting out to frame me sent her there to send Sara on a wild goose chase."

"The only one who is sending us on a wild goose chase is you." Sara cut in dryly.

"You only have your claws out because of the intimacy between your ex-husband and I."

"Now whose being hostile?" Sara shot back.

"Needle away, Sara. After all, I've been on both sides of the pricking."

"Alright, Okay. Clearly my presence here is distracting. I'm out of here." Sara stood to leave. Retreating to behind the two-way mirror. Catherine quickly chased after her.

"Just breathe, Sara. She's only trying to get a rise out of you." Catherine said calmly as she faced an angry and rigid Sara. "And the more you let her get to you, the more control she has."

"I know. I'm—I'm sorry." Sara shook her head at herself, arms still crossed, "I lost my cool. Dammit"

"Don't beat yourself up." Catherine offered as comfort, "I don't feel the way you do about Grissom and I want kill the bitch with my bare hands."

Sara's mouth fell agape. Her jaw moved in small motions, trying to speak, to say anything but shock washed over her. "How..." Her voice was so small, almost inaudible. _Was she that obvious? Who else knew? Did Grissom know?_

"I'm a woman. I know it when I see it. So does she. Remember that."


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N:** Just wanted to give a quick shout out and thank you to everyone whose been following this fanfic from the beginning. It's been quite a journey, hu? I've had a lot of fun writing it, and reliving our favorite moments from his incredible love story. Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed and commented. Your words are truly appreciated!

Also, just a reminder that **I am NOT ending this series at the end of Immortality episode**. I do plan to follow their love story all the way through to the _end_ ;). So keep looking for updates, they'll be coming frequently.

Anyway, Here's chapter 63! Enjoy!

* * *

Grissom watched as the young redhead girl he'd bumped into when he'd first arrived walked toward them.

"Hey you. What'dya got there?" Catherine laughed through a smile, "You going somewhere?"

"No. This is Mr. Grissom's. Did you forget your luggage? I found it outside the front door."

"That's not mine."

"It's not?" She furrowed her brow's and picked up the name tag on the luggage.

"Has your name on it."

Sara turned to Grissom with a confused look, realizing he wore the same one.

"Bomb!" Catherine yelled and grabbed the girls hand, pulling her away.

In that same moment Grissom instinctually threw his arm around Sara and rushed her down the hallway and out of the lab. Feet moving fast. Once they broke through the double doors and the sunshine hit their faces he turned to her. His hand automatically moving her her cheek, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Are you okay?" His face was so close to hers, his voice soft and concerned. She could feel the panic of people swarming around them but suddenly nothing else mattered. The feeling of his hand on her face was more than she could take. Warm and comforting. She watched as his eyes squinted with worry.

He felt her head nod with small movements below his hand as she answered, "Fine." She cleared her throat, "I'm fine."

She wanted to cry. Desperately wanted to cry. Every feeling she'd pushed down bubbled up and threatened to burst free. She mustered up all over her strength to push it back down. She quickly reached up to her cheek and peeled his hand off her face. Lowering it for him. He squeezed his hand ever so slightly as she did and gave him an small, crooked smile. So small that he almost didn't see it.

"I uh—" He began but then quickly retreated.

* * *

Catherine, D.B. Grissom and Sara all stood around the AV lab as Dave handed them the SD card he'd pulled from the body that was discovered in the suitcase just as Henry rushed in.

"Do you guys remember Wolfowitz?"

"That's the guy that was convicted of killing Heather's daughter." Grissom remembered aloud.

"It's also the guy Heather almost killed until you intervened." Sara pointed out, showing Grissom his own selective memory.

Sara remembered that night very well. He and Sara had been dating for nine months at that point. She'd watch as he broke all his typical rules while investigating the case once he knew it was linked to her. Watched as he went out of his way to console her, to communicate with her—something at even that stage of their relationship he was still having a hard time doing with her. She remember letting herself into his town house that night, knowing they had plans to spend the evening together once shift was over. She remembered falling asleep alone in his bed and waking up to it still empty. She remembered him not mentioning a thing about it, and her not prying—afraid of the answer she might get in return. _Was she still harboring those feelings?_ She thought to herself.

"It was Wolfowitz in that suitcase." Henry spoke, taking Sara out of her thoughts.

"Well clearly someone out there is obsessed with Lady Heather, and from the looks of what we found in the suitcase—Somebody might be obsessed with you too." Sara's voice softened toward the end of her sentence, realizing the weight of her words as she spoke. An intense feeling began to form in her gut. _She was worried for his safety._

Grissom walked outside, realizing he needed to be alone with his thoughts. He felt confused and out of place. The lab bustled around him, his old team seemed almost unrecognizable. Greg could barely look at him. Greg, the once very green CSI who'd bend over backwards to make Grissom proud was now shying away from even being in his presence. And Sara, he could see how unnerved she was at having his presence in the lab. Could sense the tension rising in her shoulders and jaw. He needed to retreat, to be alone.

He walked out of the lab and found a nearby bench to sit on. Mindlessly, he took out a moleskin notebook and began sketching whales a sharks. The soft methodic motions of his wrist moving back and forth to fill in the shapes began to calm him. Peace began to restore to his mind.

"Hard at work I see."

Grissom looked up to see Catherine approaching him. _Had she followed him out here?_

"I am." He spoke simply, returning his attention to his sketching.

"Drawing... sea creatures."

"Whales and Sharks." He offered, "Metaphor for Vegas if you think about it. The whales bring the money in, the sharks take it away. Whales are bigger in size and stature but they're the submissive. Sharks are smaller but they are by far the more dominate. I think someone's out there playing the dominate but he's really the submissive."

"Okay." Catherine spoke as she sat down on the bench beside him, "Listen, I need a favor. The new girl—She's having a bit of a rough one. She thinks she let you down. I was hoping you might be able to help her process the suitcase? Giver her a little of that Grissom TLC? She could really use it."

"I'd rather not. I'm quite content here. Where did that girl come from anyway?"

Catherine stared at him in utter disbelief, not that he'd notice—Grissom still stared at his drawings, "My vagina." At this Grissom looked up, "You don't recognize her!?" Catherine began to laugh at his scrunched expression, "Griss, that's Lindsey. That's my daughter." She laughed even more at the now bewildered look in his eye.

"That's Lindsey!?"

She laughed again, "Yeah."

"What the hell happened?"

"She grew up." Catherine shrugged like a proud mom. "So? What do you say?"

"Yeah. Of course." Grissom shook his head still trying to wrap his mind around it. "Wow."

"I know." She watched as Grissom looked into the distance, his face softening a moment as he thought. "You ever think of having kids, Gil?"

He looked back at her now, she could see the sadness in his eyes, "There was a time."

"With Sara?"

His head dropped, staring at the now closed notebook in his hands, shoulders slumped. He felt her reach over and place a soft, gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You should talk to her."

"I wouldn't know what to say."

"Tell her the truth."

Grissom exhaled, "I think that would be a little selfish."

"It's okay to be selfish sometimes, Gil."

He shook his head, "No, I've put her through enough."

She smiled sadly at him, his head still hung.

* * *

Sara sat in the interrogation room with Heather across from her now, alone. She was swallowing her pride and coming to Heather for help.

"But you're not here alone without Grissom to show me a distorted face and shoddy audio. You're here for another reason. Aren't you?"

"I'm here, based on what I've shown you, to ask if you have any idea who's behind this." Her words were pleading, a fact not lost on Heather.

"I've had thousands of clients come through my domain over the years. Any one of them could be after me for a number of unforeseeable reasons."

"I'm not talking about you, Heather. This is about Grissom." She became more stern as she spoke on. "Why would one of your clients or patients be after him? If you're not behind this then _help_ me _help_ him."

Heather searched her eyes, "You're scared for him, aren't you?"

"I am." Sara spoke without blinking.

"Do you love him?" Heathers voice was softer now, nicer.

Sara stared back at this woman with whom she felt so hostile toward. This woman, who somehow had a hold over Grissom continued to undermine her relationship with him at every turn, "I do." She finally spoke.

"I believe you."

"You should." She let a long moment pass before asking her back, "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love him?"

Heather could see right through Sara and her transparent insecurities. "No." She paused, letting Sara think for a quick moment that she didn't love Grissom, "I'm afraid I can't help you." She pushed the papers back across the table to Sara.

Sara felt her heart constrict. She felt vulnerable and exposed now that she'd admitted for the first time to herself and out loud that she still loved Grissom. She loved him with every beat of her heart. Her cold, indifferent exterior, the walls she'd built up to protect herself were now crumbling down. She could barely breathe. A crushing pain pressing against her heart—the one that was there when they'd first ended their marriage, the one she'd thought would never go away. Now she realized it never did go away, she'd just become good at ignoring it.

* * *

She approached a layout room to see Grissom hunched over the table, talking to a jar full of bees. The sight of which made her heart melt. She couldn't remember how she could be so angry at him as he stood there, with almost child-like amusement. She decided to enter. He quickly stopped what he was doing and straightened himself out at the sound of her footsteps approaching.

"Hi." He smiled, she could see his body tensing slightly. "I was talking to the bees."

"Shocker." She looked up at him and smiled, causing his body to relax. He returned her statement with a boyish grin. The one that always made her a little weak.

"I heard you were in here, thought maybe you could use some help."

He looked up at her now with wide eyes, "I'd love some. I miss working side by side with you." _Maybe he shouldn't have said that._ He quickly thought, remembering the reaction she'd had early when he told her that she left him speechless and that she was beautiful. But she returned his statement with a relaxed smile. He was in the clear. "You and the bees." He said boyishly, nodding his head toward the insects in the jar.

There was a moment there now, where they shared a memory together without speaking it aloud. A memory of the two of them in beekeeper outfits, when he'd asked her to marry him. The memory of which swelled both their hearts with joy, even now replaying it in their minds alone.

"Question is, how did the bee get in the cadaver?" She leaned in a bit closer to him as she spoke, the two staring at the bees on the table. So close now that he could smell her signature lavender scent. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing it to assault his senses. _How he'd missed that scent, dreamed of it._

"I believe—" The sounds of Hodges' voice caused the two to move away from each other instinctively. _Hodges._ Grissom cursed the name in his head. Feeling regret for not having been able to hand onto that moment with Sara just a little longer.

* * *

Sara and Grissom found themselves in bee-keeper outfits once again. A little less bulky this time though. They stood in the tented area they'd set up with the color coded bee experiment. She painted the bee at his command, holding it gently between tweezers, the blue paint easily attaching to the bee's hairs.

She could feel him look on over her shoulder, his body slightly touching her back. "First time for everything." She spoke a bit mindlessly as she painted the bee.

"Excellent. Well done." He smiled causing her to do the same. She shook her head internally—After all this time, after everything they'd been through, it still felt unbelievably good to be his star pupil, for him to be proud of her.

Once the bee's were released to the forest, Grissom and Sara took a seat on folded chairs. She breathed in deeply, taking in the fresh air of this beautiful day. It felt good to get outside for a change. She rolled up the netting of her helmet, letting the light breeze kiss her face as she sipped at a thermos of tea.

Grissom sat beside her in his own folding chair and watched her movements. He mimicked her, rolling up his own netting. _God she's beautiful,_ he thought to himself as he watched her. Her body language relaxed, face stoic as she gazed out into the distance. He wondered what she was thinking of in that moment. He couldn't help but to think back to Costa Rico, when they'd spent the day just like this watching the wildlife around them. Peaceful and quiet.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing would come out. He'd thought about his conversation with Catherine earlier. Thought about telling Sara the truth, about apologizing maybe. But his voice wouldn't oblige. He couldn't speak. So he just sat there and watched her. Finally having a prolonged moment to recommit her scent to his memory.

* * *

Later that night Sara and Grissom rode to the suspect's home with two marked cop cars and a SWAT team. The slowly made their way out of the car and approached the house, letting SWAT and the uniforms lead the way.

Then the suspect emerged, "Dolton Benton? How is that possible? His DNA wasn't a match."

Grissom and Sara slowly approached Mr. Benton. Mr. Benton spoke on, explaining why he did what he did.

"What do you want."

"His life." Benton answered Sara.

"You came along and you turned her heart. She quit roll playing because of you. She quit her practice because of you. She quick ME because of you." Benton wagged his figging accusingly so toward Grissom. "And now—Everything Heather and I once had, is gone."

"You can't loose something you never had, Mr. Benton. Lady Heather never slept with you. She never slept with any of her clients or her patients." Sara sideways glanced at Grissom upon hearing this, something she'd never known before. "But you've been emotionally attached to her. Haven't you? Question now is, how attached are you to that bomb?" While talking, Grissom was able to get a close enough look at the bomb. He's already surmised that the trigger pull wasn't connected.

"You see, I know about bombs." Grissom continued, "I know about oceans too. There's a great mamal in the ocean known as the 52hz whale. All year he practices his love song for the female. Travels thousands of miles to find her, but when he finally gets the chance to serenade her, she doesn't give him a call back."

Sara's ears perked up at this, _Was he really trying to tell her something through a metaphor while talking down a bomber?_ It was such an incredibly "Grissom" thing to do that she almost couldn't believe it. She listened more intently now, trying to decipher his cryptic words.

"Why? His love ballet is sung at 52hz. A sonic signature one note higher than the lowest sound of a tuba. The average female hears at 10 to 15hz. So she never hears his song. They call him the lonely whale. And year after year, for a hundred years he works on a new love song. And never, ever, gets a call back. Eventually he dies off. Forever alone. Heartbreaking."

Sara winced at this, trying to understand where his head was at.

"But you've been calling out too. You've been calling out for Lady Heather's love. But she's not calling back, is she? And the frightening part for you is, she never will."


	64. Chapter 64

A/N: :)

* * *

Sara stood posing for the cameras, holding her new "Lab Director" badge while shaking Conrad's hand.

"Congratulations, Sara. I'll talk to you later."

"Thanks, Conrad." She smiled widely. She then turned around to see Grissom standing there, watching as the press filtered away. He put his hands together and claped softly, smiling. She laughed softly through a wide smile, "Thank you." She walked closer to him, "I never thought I'd see this day coming—but with D.B. out..."

"You deserve it. Vegas is lucky to have you." He offered.

"The oceans are luck to have you." She countered, softly spoken and watched as he shrugged a bit awkwardly. "Ironic, Isn't it? I'm the one who always wanted to get out of Vegas. And you're the one who thought you'd never leave."

He tried to decode her tone, was it sadness? Resentment? Regret? He couldn't quite place it. But hearing her speak those words hit him hard. He'd never truly thought of it like that before.

"Yeah." He said a bit wistfully. His mind consumed with the thoughts of what could have been until he snapped himself out of it, "Wow." He took another long pause, not sure what to do or say, "So..." His fingers interlocked with apprehension.

She waited a moment to see if he'd continue, but it became clear that he had no follow up. She searched his eyes, trying to find what he was thinking, but she came up empty. "I hope you find what you're looking for out there." Her voice became a bit hoarse with unshed tears. She waited, searching his eyes once more, or perhaps taking them in and committing their hue to memory, "Goodbye, Gil."

His mouth fell agape with the unspoken words he'd wished he'd said as he watched her walk past him and down the lab hall, out of view. A sadness and loneliness so deep and so terrifying rushed over him, he couldn't breathe. _He'd lost her, completely._ He realized for the first time in that moment. _He'd lost her forever._

Taking a deep breath, he walked down the hall to the interrogation room where Heather had just given her statement. All the while rehearsing in his head that it is better to have love and lost then never to have loved at all. Convincing himself that all the years of happiness with her was worth the pain he felt now.

He entered the room:

"Heather." Grissom took a seat at the table across from her now, "Before I get back on my boat." He paused, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, "I wanted to thank you." His words came out hoarse and somewhat sad causing Heather to look up.

"Thank me for what?"

"When we first met, I—I had a shell around my heart. I lost my believe in humanity. The only truth I knew was empirical science. I just wanted to thank you for...opening my heart. Through you I—I learned to love someone."

"Sara?"

Grissom paused for a moment, letting Sara's name echo through his ears, "She restores my faith in the human being. Plus, she helped me with my crossword puzzles." He smiled at the countless memories he had of picking up a crossword puzzle he'd started to see she'd finished it. "She's been my best friend. I'll miss her." His eyes fixated on the table now, feeling such pain in his constricting heart as he spoke, "For the rest of my life." He smiled sadly, looking up at her.

She could see the deep pain and suffering her friend was enduring. And she whole heartedly contemplating telling him that Sara still loved him—she'd told her as much in the interrogation room mere hours earlier. But this may cause him more pain, especially if she loved him, but not enough to be with him again. She couldn't speak to the depth of Sara's commitment to her estranged ex-husband. It was at that moment, as Heather sat there and contemplated what to do to help her friend, that she realized the camera was still on.

She smiled as she spoke, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds; Admit impediments. Love is not love; Which alters when it alteration finds."

He continued her thought, "Or bends with the remover to remove; O no; it is an ever-fixed mark; That looks on tempests, and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark... Sonnet 116."

"Love prevails where it is meant to you. Have a little faith."

Grissom smiled sadly. He had no faith left. He had something beautiful with Sara, a love and respect unmatched by his wildest dreams, and he'd let it simply slip through his fingers. This was something not even Shakespeare could fix for him.

* * *

Sara sat behind the desk of her new office. An office once held by Grissom. A fact she was trying desperately to not let bother her. The paperwork was already beginning to pile up, reminding her of how poorly Grissom used to manage the administrative side of his job.

"Hey! Sara." She looked up to see Lindsey walking in, holding up a manilla envelope, "The front desk asked me to deliver this. It's the video tape of Lady Heather's final interview before Grissom released her."

Sara examined the envelope briefly before placing it on the side of her desk by the mountain of paperwork. "Oh great. Thanks, Lindsey." She returned her focus back to the document she'd been filing out.

Lindsey moved to leave but then turned around, "I—uh, watched the whole interrogation." Sara looked up, realizing she was still in the office, "Uh, I learned a lot. _Especially at the end_. You should watch it." Sara furrowed her brows as she watched Lindsey turn on her heals and disappear down the corridor. She picked up the envelope again, looking at it.

The last thing Sara wanted to do right now was watch Heather's statement. She had the written document in front of her, what else could be learned by the video? She placed the envelope back down again returning her attention once more to the paperwork.

But Lindsey's words kept echoing through her mind, _"...Especially the end."_ Finally, curiosity got the best of her. She walked down to an AV lab and closed the door behind her and popped in the tape.

She fast forwarded, not wanting to sit through the whole thing and only stopped when she saw Grissom enter the room through the reflection of the two-way mirror. She hit play and sat forward.

Tears began to well in her eyes as she listened to Grissom talk to Heather. _"She's been my best friend." ... "I'll miss her for the rest of my life."_

Her heart constricted, her mouth forming a small but sad smile as a tear escaped her eye. She quickly wiped it away. _He still loved her. He knew he'd made a mistake, he just didn't think he could fix it._ Suddenly feeling inspired and determined, Sara ejected the tape, returned it to the envelope and filed it away with the evidence clerk.

She then walked briskly down the hallway.

"Catherine." She spoke more urgently than she'd meant to at the sight of her former colleague. "Hey, did uh—did Grissom mention to you anything about his itinerary?"

"Uh yeah—yeah. His flight back to San Diego is in an hour I think. Then he's heading back on Ishmael."

"Ishmael?"

"His boat."

"Oh." Sara looked at her watch, knowing she'd never make it to the airport in time.

Catherine's face relaxed and her eyes went wide, "You watched it?"

Sara swallowed hard, "Yeah." Her voice was so small it was almost inaudible.

"So?"

"So I think I need to get to the airport."

Catherine wrapped both her arms around Sara, "Thank god." She gushed as she released her from her grasp. "Go!"

"Okay—Okay..." Sara was still trying to wrap her head around this. "The directorship... It's yours, Cath. You deserve it. I'll call Ecklie on the way to the airport." With that Sara rushed out to the lab and headed home where she quickly stuffed an overnight bag, bought and printed a boarding pass, and called a taxi.

She exited the San Diego airport and breathed in deeply. Feeling free, she realized. She readjusted her bag on her shoulder and got in a yellow taxi. The seaport was a 30 minute drive from the airport and Sara spent the whole time looking at her watch, terrified that he'd be leaving any minute. Finally the taxi pulled up and sara got out, readjusting her bag on her should once more, nervously so.

She stood there and looked around, trying to spot him or his boat. She pulled off her sunglasses, letting the cool ocean breeze sweep her hair back out of her face. She smiled, spotting him and realizing that she was just in time.

Slowly but steadily, Sara walked down the dock ramp and toward the boat. Trying her best to suppress the smile that dared to pull at her lips at the sight of Grissom coiling rope and pulling Buoys out of the water. As he turned around to pull the last of the buoys out of the water, he spotted her. Eyes locking. His face stoic and confused, awestruck. He stared at her as she approached the boat, not moving a single muscle, barely blinking.

He could feel his heart beating faster, threatening to pound out of his chest. His body felt numb. Grissom's mouth fell slightly agape, the smallest hint of a smile pulled at one side of his mouth as she came closer, a big closed-mouth grin on her own face.

Now here she was. Standing just on the other side of the boat from him—a mere five feet if that. Her feet on the dock, his in the boat, feeling it sway slightly—or was that him feeling week at the knees? He stared at her, his deep blue eyes gazing straight into the chocolate orbs he thought he'd only every see again in sweet memories.

He suddenly regained use of his body and quickly held out his hand. She took it, climbing over the side of the boat. He reached up, placing a hand on either side of her torso as he guided her onto his side of the boat. She felt real within his grasps, knowing now his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. She placed her hands on his shoulders as he helped her over.

Now, with her feet planted firmly inside the boat, they stood so close together. Her hands roaming from his shoulders to his cheek. Feeling the warm intimacy of his skin below her finger pads. She was doing all she could not to cry, but it was proving difficult.

They stared into each others eyes for jus a moment longer until Grissom finally pulled her to him, closing the small gap between them and wrapping his arms around her tightly, pressing his body to hers. He closed his eyes and smiled, taking this moment in and committing it to memory. He felt her hand on the back of his head, tangling her long fingers through his curly hair. He closed his eyes tighter, taking in her scent, the feeling of her body so close to his—a feeling he thought he'd never have again.

"Gil." Her voice was so soft he almost didn't hear her. He pulled back to look into her eyes once more, seeing them now full of water. He brought his hand up to her face, wiping away one tear that escaped.

"How did you—"

"I saw the tape." Her lip began to quiver, her voice betraying her.

"Tape?"

"Heather's statement." Sara watched as Grissom's expression continued to be confused, "The camera wasn't off when you went in the room to talk to her."

"Oh." He searched her watery eyes, taking in her appearance. His heart swelled and then—he couldn't wait any longer. He leaned in and kissed her passionately, with over two years of longing and desperation. It took her breath away.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead to hers, "I've always loved you, Sara." he managed to speak through slightly labored breathing.

He watched as her facial expression began to change, she was thinking... and then—"Oh my god." She whispered.

"What?" Fear flooded through him.

"Your boat... You named your boat Ishmael." Tears now fell freely from her eyes as she repeated herself, "You named your boat Ishmael." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "After all this time?" she finally added, choking on her words as the tears continued to well and fall.

He nodded silently. Knowing she'd realized that in the bible, Ishmael is the name of Sarah and Abraham's first son. "You're all I've ever wanted." He spoke once he'd composed himself enough to do so.

Now _she_ was speechless. Opening and closing her mouth—nothing coming out. All she could do was muster up enough strength to nod in small movements, letting him know that she was on the same page.

He could feel the heat rise within his body, so many feelings washing over him, overloading his senses.

"It's um—The sun is setting..." He spoke hesitantly. "Will you come with me?" He motioned with his head that he needed to start going. The apprehension in his voice let her know that he wasn't convinced she was here for good.

"Where to?" She smiled.

"Santa Monica." He replied as he brushed a few flowing strains of hair back behind her ear.

* * *

The two sailed off into the sunset, and for the first time ever, Grissom got to enjoy his boat with another person—the only person he'd ever truly wanted to enjoy it with. The trip up the coast to Santa Monica was only two and a half hours long. In that time, they enjoyed the silence of each other's company for the first part of it, until Grissom finally spoke.

"The Directorship?"

"Catherine." She answered simply.

"So you're leaving Vegas?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" She smiled up at him, watching the disbelief in his eyes. He was still trying to wrap his head around all of this. Just a few hours ago, he was prepared to spend the rest of his life alone, having only the memories of her to keep him warm at night. And now, here she was, standing beside him and changing his future forever.

They docked in the Santa Monica port just after the sun had gone down. Grissom secured the boat and helped her off on to the dock. "Are you up for a walk? It's only about fifteen minutes from here."

She nodded in return and he lead the way. As they walked along the water's pathway about fifteen minutes north, the sounds of night were all around them. They listened to the methodic crashing and retreating of the waves against the shore. Soon Grissom slowed until he came to a stop.

"This is uh, Well—this is it." Behind him stood a quaint cottage with a white picket fence and a wild garden growing in the front yard. They walked up the pathway and he keyed open the door.

"Gil." She turned to him as he flicked on the lights. "This is beautiful."

He simply smiled at her, suddenly feeling a bit awkward in her presence again. He wasn't used to it—to having her there with him anymore. "Can we..." He paused, trying to find the right words, causing her to turn to him, "Can we pick up where we left off?" He asked, his voice small and timid like. He watched as that sidle-famous grin formed on her face.

"We can." She agreed. Reaching past him to the newspaper on the counter, "Let's start here." She smiled knowingly, "15 down is Revere."

This earned a wide, boyish grin from Grissom, his eyes seeming even bluer than they've ever been. Then something came over him in that moment. He swept her up in his arms and kissed her so deeply, deeper and more passionately that she could ever remember before. His hands were in her hair, on her back, roaming as he felt her smile agains his lips. They wasted no time now. Clothing shed quickly as he lead her to the bedroom. There, he could finally tell her just how much he loved her, how much he missed her, how much he regretted ever letting her go. There, he could say everything he needed to say to her, without saying anything at all.

That night, in the throws of passion and desperate wanting, Grissom held onto her tightly. So tightly that she was sure he thought she'd vanish if he let go. It was the most passion filled sex either of them had ever experienced—Even more so than the first time they were ever together, despite six years of built up sexual tension. Then, neither of them had known what they were missing. But now, two years going without the other, knowing full well what they'd had before, perhaps this knowledge made it all that more impactful. And in the end, she could feel him release so forcefully that his whole body shook.

They laid together that night, both sleeping soundly for the first time in over two years. Her head laid in the spot on his chest where she could hear his strong steady heart beat against her ear—the place she knew was meant for only her. Home.

* * *

 **A/N: Again, there _is_ more to come! :) Stay tuned please!**


	65. Chapter 65

Grissom breathed in deeply. That calming lavender scent filling his nostrils. He smiled through closed eyes, feeling her weight around him, knowing now it was not just a dream. Her head laid on his chest, arm draped lazily across his bare abdomen. He kissed the top of her head, feeling her soft hair against his bearded face.

The sun filtered through the light weight curtains of the bedroom, birds chirping outside. He turned his head toward the window, it's view covered in Asclepias Tuberosa that he'd planted to attract butterflies to the garden. He laid there for a while, not moving a muscle so as not to wake Sara. He felt more content in this moment then he could ever remember.

Soon though, he did feel her stir against him. "Good morning." He whispered and watched as Sara leaned her head up toward him to look into her eyes. A smile spread over her face, "Good morning." She breathed back before nuzzling her head back against his chest.

They spent a lazy morning together of bare limbs intertwining, smiling kisses and gazing into eyes. Eventually they made their way to the kitchen and made breakfast together, just like they had countless times before. It really did feel like no time had passed at all.

"Sara." He spoke turning to her as he pour orange juice into two glasses, "I uh—" She watched his eyes dart nervously.

"What is it?" She pressed softly, something she rarely did to him. Usually she'd let him gather his thoughts in his own pace. But she was feeling anxious at his mannerisms now.

"I wanted to apologize. I realize I never really have and I—"

She shook her head, "We were both at fault Gil."

"I let you go." He spoke in a voice so small and ashamed that she had to strain to hear him.

"And I let you." She offered, "It took two people to bring us to that point but, I'm ready to leave all of that in the past if you are."

He smiled, "I am." They sat down and enjoyed their breakfast together. A simple one of eggs, fruit, toast and juice. Sara stared out the window at the wild garden Grissom had planted. She smiled, knowing that he'd specifically and strategically planted certain species to attract his favorite insects. As they continued their breakfast, Sara could tell there was still something on Grissom's mind. Something bothering him.

"What's on your mind?" She asked.

"Oh–I..." He realized that he had no poker face when it came to Sara—something he'd somehow forgotten. He took a breath in to steady himself, "I need to tell you something but, I'm afraid it will upset you."

"Okay." Sara cleared her throat trying her best to brace herself. Her mind raced with the countless possibilities of what could be unnerving him.

"We uh—you see, we never actually got divorced."

"Excuse me?" Her eyebrows shot up so high he was surprised they didn't jump off her face.

"Well, you sent back the papers but then, they got destroyed on my boat—a wave," He added at the end in way of explaining, "... and I—"

"You didn't want to put me through signing them again?"

"Yeah."

He watched as her face changed expressions, traveling through her thought process until she finally shrugged and said, "Well that makes this easier now, doesn't it?"

He smiled, she was so simple. So easy to be with. So uncomplicated in so many regards. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled widely.

"Okay then." He looked down at his eggs and then back up to her, a small smile placid on his face.

* * *

 **November 2015**

Grissom and Sara were out to sea. They'd decided to continue to work with the organization Grissom had been involved with for at least three more months before deciding on where they should refocus their time. There was ongoing talks of conservationist efforts, finding ways to devote themselves to the environment and the betterment of humankind. All of the options on the table excited them both greatly.

Grissom looked around the boat from the top where he was steering. Sara had been standing next to him minutes earlier before suddenly retreating down the stairs. He looked behind him, wanting to point out a group of sea otter's along the shoreline to her.

"Sara?" He spotted her clenching the boat's side railing and heaving over it. He quickly threw the boat into auto pilot and rushed down the stairs to her side, placing a gently hand on her back, "Honey, are you okay?"

She heaved again, expelling her stomach contents to the ocean water.

"Sorry." she finally spoke as she straightened herself out.

"Sea sick?"

"I don't think so. I've never been queasy on boats before." She thought a moment, "I think I have a stomach bug. I haven't been feeling great for a few days now."

Grissom nodded, "Well, we're on our way back now. You should take the week to rest up on land." Sara nodded in agreement, causing Grissom to worry. It was very out of character for her to not put up a fight on a topic like this. "You sure you're okay?" His soft blue eyes squinted with worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really." She nodded again. Then he watched as her face lost its color again. She whipped back around and heaved once more over the side of the boat.

Grissom retreated back up to the top of the boat and turned the boat around, knowing Sara was in no mood to gaze at sea otters. He redirected their path back to the Santa Monica seaport.

Just an hour later they docked. Sara had continued to be sick for most of the ride back. Luckily, it seemed to subside by the time they got int the cab, headed back to the cottage.

* * *

A week later and Sara was still experiencing random waves of nausea.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor. Just to be safe." Grissom pushed.

"I'm fine, Gil."

This exchange happened so many times that they both lost count. It wasn't until another week past, when the nausea still wasn't subsiding that Sara caved in. "Alright." She threw her hands up, "I made an appointment with a primary care doctor for tomorrow."

"Good." He'd kissed her on top her head and returned to working in the garden. She watched as he flipped through an old and used gardening book with little notes written all over the margins. She leaned in to get a better look at it, noticing it was not his handwriting.

"Whats this?" she asked flipping through the pages.

"It was my fathers." He spoke, not breaking his attention from the task at hand. "I've been trying to recreate the garden he'd built when I was young. Of course, with a few modifications." He motioned with his head to the plants and flowers against the side of the house that attracted butterflies.

She smiled and kelt down next to him, "Need help?"

"I'd love some." He glowed, handing her a platers shovel and a small sack of seeds.

* * *

The next morning, Sara slipped out of bed early to make it to her appointment. As she finished getting ready she contemplated not going, she was feeling completely fine. But as she went to put down the car keys a wave of nausea hit her again. She sprinted to the bathroom, making it just in time. _Okay._ She looked up in silent resignation.

Sara drove 20 minutes to get to the doctor, silently praying the whole time not to get nauseous. Luckily, the feeling stayed at bay.

* * *

Grissom woke to find Sara was already gone. He got up and stretched the sleep away and decided to spend the rest of the morning in the garden. He breathed in the morning air, letting it fill his lungs with the sweet smell of nectar and flowers. Sara had been with him in Santa Monica for almost two months now. In that time, they'd moved the rest of their belongings from the house in Vegas to Santa Monica, she'd accompanied him on a few sea missions for the shark preservationists organization, and the two had discussed more solidified plans for how they'd like to spend their days.

Sara had secured a researcher position with Santa Monica College in their environmental conservationist department while Grissom had joined an organization in the private sector with a similar cause. Devoting this next chapter of their lives to a new application of the sciences they both loved felt right. Both were also looking forward to having the structure of a job in their lives again. While these last couple of months had been enjoyable and relaxing, working in the garden, going out on boat at their leisure, they new that it was time to join something greater.

Grissom was just turning off the hose, having watered the plants, when he saw Sara pull into the drive way and get out of the car.

"Good morning." He smiled as he dropped the garden hose and approached her. She still looked a little pail. "How'd it go?"

"Good, good." She said a bit absently.

"So? What do you have? Just a stomach bug?"

"No." She paused and looked at him, taking in his appearance. His well rested face, soft blue eyes, sun kissed skin. Dirt caked on his cheek, wearing that goofy straw hat. She bit her lower lip, "It's a parasite."

"Oh?" He moved in closer to her, concern in his eyes, "What is it? Balantidium coli? Naegleria fowleri? Did you get it while we were on the boat?"

"No, nothing like that." She smiled, trying hard to keep her composure here. "The latin word for it would be gravidity."

Sara watched as he thought for a minute, trying to piece it together. "Gravidity?" He repeated, "That just means heavy." His brows scrunched with concern.

"Okay, another term for it would be gestation." She pursed her lips in a smile and watched as Grissom dropped the gardening gloves he held in his hand. His straw hat falling to the grass as his hand went through his messy hair.

"You're pregnant?" She could tell it wasn't fully registered with him yet. His voice small and confused, his eyes searching hers. "You're pregnant?" He repeated. This time she nodded, smiling wider now. "You're pregnant." Third time, disbelief still laced heavily in his voice.

"That's what they tell me."

"Sara. You're pregnant." His voice much more enthusiastic now, having heard it allowed enough for it to really sync in for him. He scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around, hugging her tightly as she laughed. When he finally put her down he took her lips in his and kissed her deeply.

"You still want to have a child?" She asked through a smile, knowing the answer.

"I named my boat Ishmael." Is all he responded with. That boyish grin that made her melt was plastered to his face. It looked like it may never come off. He kissed her again and again and again. Feel such an immense, overwhelming joy take over his body.

"How far along are you?"

"Seven weeks." She said a bit bashfully, "I should have known."

"I'm finding it hard to wrap my head around this." He spoke honestly. "Seven weeks ago I thought I'd never see you again. And now here we are, about to have a family." As he spoke he realize that that first night together must have been when she'd conceived.

She nodded, feeling the same level of awe he felt—just not having the words to express it.

"You're okay with all of this?" He spoke a bit hesitantly now, knowing she'd never bee fully sold on the idea of kids.

He watched as she nodded softly, "Gil." His names slipped off her tongue, "There is nothing else I want more." He pulled her into his embrace, holding her there tightly. Swaying her back and forth in small, rhythmic movements.


	66. Chapter 66

**July 2016**

Grissom looked down at the little bundle squirming in his arms, wrapped tightly in a soft pink blanket. He rocked it back and forth slowly, cooing. Then her eyes opened, blue meeting blue, and Grissom's heart began to flutter.

"My god." He spoke through a whisper as he took a seat on the hospital bed next to Sara, "She's beautiful." Sara looked over Grissom's arms to see their daughter held safely in his hold. Pale white skin, rosy cheeks and lips, strands of brown hair and bright blue eyes.

"We probably should have discussed names." Sara spoke ever so softly, watching Grissom watching their daughter. Their daughter who was a mere hours old.

"Aurora." He spoke just as softly, not taking his eyes off the child in his arms, his child.

"Aurora?" She questioned.

" _Aurora Borealis._ She's breathtaking, like the northern lights." He finally lifted his eyes from the child in his arms to look at Sara as he spoke now, "What do you think?"

"I love it." She smiled widely. "Aurora Grissom." She looked at the little bundle in Grissom's arms once more as he rocked her back and forth now. "Aurora." She whispered to her daughter.

Grissom leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Sara's lips. "Thank you."

Just then there was a soft knock on the door, followed by Betty peaking in.

"Come in." Sara signed to better with a bright smile. Sara had taken more of an effort to better her sign language after learning she was pregnant. Knowing that it would be important for her to help Grissom teach it to the child.

Sara watched as betty's face glowed with excitement. Grissom stood and walked toward his mother, the baby in his arms was awake but quiet, taking in the world around her. Betty covered her mouth with her hands at the sight of her, tears falling down her cheeks.

Carefully, Grissom handed the child to his mother and watched as Betty took in every inch of the child's face. She then looked up at her son with awestruck eyes.

"Her name is Aurora." Grissom signed to his mother. Betty rocked the child in her arms, watching as her ice blue eyes slowly fluttered closed, drifting to sleep.

* * *

 **November 2018**

"Daddy." A little girl ran down the hallway to the bedroom. "Look, daddy." Grissom spun around in his office chair to see the child standing in front of him. She was a spitting image of Sara. Long brown hair, growing like a weed. Except her eyes, those were his, deep blue orbs.

"Hey sweetie." Grissom lifted her up and set her down on his lap, "What do we have here?" The little girl shoved a paper his way, "Wow, did you draw this butterfly for me?" She nodded enthusiastically.

"Gil?" He heard Sara call from the kitchen.

"Yes, Dear?" He called back but after a moment no replay came.

"Let's go see what mommy wants." He spoke as he lifted the girl in his arms and spun her around. Her high pitched laugh was like a sweet symphony. He walked down the hall to the kitchen. "Sara?"

"Gil." Her breath was labored causing Grissom to pick up his pace and find his way to her.

"Sara." He spoke sharply at the sight of her steadying herself against the counter, one hand pushing to her abdomen, "What's wrong?"

"My water broke."

"I thought we had another month." Grissom spoke through raised brows as he quickly put Aurora down and rushed to Sara's side, putting a hand on her stomach. "How far apart are the contractions?"

"Four minutes I think." At the end of her sentence she went rigid, squeezing his hand so hard he though it would fall out.

"Mama!?" Aurora stood there looking up at her parents.

Grissom looked back down at his daughter and turned to her, crouching down to get eye level with her, "Hey sweetie. Remember how we were talking about getting you a little baby brother or sister?" He watched as Aurora nodded enthusiastically, "Well, what if we go do that today?"

"Yay!" She exclaimed while dancing in a circle.

"But you're going to have to be a very good girl for that to happen. What do you say?" Aurora nodded silently. "Good."

Grissom quickly whipped out his phone and then looked up at Sara, "I just texted my mother, she'll meet us at the hospital to look after Aurora." Sara nodded through clenched teeth and slowly made her way to the front door. Grissom quickly put on Aurora's jacket and shoes, and grabbed Sara's overnight bag. He strapped Aurora in to her car seat and then ran back to the house to help sara make her way to the car.

"I'm fine." Sara insisted causing Grissom to laugh silently. _Old habits die hard._ Once everyone was strapped in Grissom peeled the car out of the driveway and speed safely to the hospital.

* * *

"Hi, Mom." Grissom quickly signed seeing Betty in the waiting area. He kissed her hello and then quickly knelt down to get eye level with Aurora, and signed while he spoke, "Will you be good for Grandma while mommy and I go get you a baby sister or brother?" He watched as she signed "I will." I smiled proudly. Aurora hugged Betty and climbed up to a seat to sit next to her.

"Do you want your crayons?" Grissom asked Aurora, who nodded enthusiastically. He handed her the sketchbook and crayons, "Maybe you can draw grandma a butterfly." He signed once more as he spoke.

"Okay, Daddy."

Grissom kissed the top of her head, signed "Thank you." to his mother and then rushed back through the double doors, out of the waiting room.

"Push." He heard the nurse say as he jogged into the delivery room.

"I'm here, I'm here." He took his place by her side and held her hand tightly.

* * *

Grissom kissed the top of her head as they sounds of crying rang out. "You did it." He spoke softly as she breathed raggedly.

"I think we're good at two." She said smiling up at him. He nodded silently.

"Congratulations." The doctor walked over and placed the small bundle in his arms, "It's a boy." Grissom sat down next to sara so she could see him. He looked so much like his sister already, pale white skin, rosy cheeks and lips, bright blue eyes. But he had a think mop of dirty blonde hair sitting atop his head, just like Grissom had when he was a boy.

Grissom handed her their child carefully and watched as Sara looked into his eyes.

"So what did we decided on?" Grissom spoke in almost a whisper, realizing the baby had already fallen asleep in the safety of his mother's arms, "Last I remember we were between Benjamin and Isaac for a boy."

"What about Warrick?" Sara looked up at Grissom with bright eyes.

"Really?" He almost chocked on the words, emotion rising within him.

"Warrick Benjamin Grissom. We can call him Rick for short."

"Okay." He smiled widely looking down at his son, "Warrick."

A little while later, once they were transferred to their private room, Betty brought Aurora in. She pressed her finger to her lips in a "shhhing" manner before opening the door.

"Mommy!" Aurora whispered as she tried to climb up the hospital.

"Whoa there." Grissom scooped her up and planted kisses all over her face causing the girl to giggle. Grissom's favorite sound. He swirled her around in an airplane gesture and landed her gently next to Sara, who had scooted over to make room for her.

"Hi, honey." Sara kissed her daughter's head softly. "Did you have fun with Grandma today?"

Aurora nodded, "I drew flying butter."

"Butterflies." Grissom corrected her with a smile as he picked up his newborn son from the little hospital crib and walked him over to Betty.

"Oh my." Betty mouthed as she took the bundle from her son and looked down at the boy.

"Warrick." He signed to his mother. No explanation was needed, she'd known all about Warrick.

"Is that my sister?"

Sara smiled down at her daughter, "We got you a brother instead. What do you think of that?"

Aurora shrugged, "Will he like bugs?"

"Maybe." She looked up at Grissom with a small, playful shake of the head in a _what are you teaching our child_ kind of way.

"Cool." Aurora nodded, deciding she was fine with having a brother instead. "I want to see him."

Sara signed to Betty, asking her to bring him over to them and watched as Betty held Warrick low enough for Aurora to see. "But we have to be quiet. See? He's sleeping." Aurora nodded obediently, "That's Warrick. Your baby brother."

"Shhhh." Aurora mimicked with her finger to her mouth.

"Very good." Sara hugged Aurora, "You're going to be a great big sister." Then Warrick stirred awake in Betty's arms, opening his mouth wide and crying.

"Did I do something?" Aurora looked up at her mom terrified.

"No sweetie, I think he's hungry." Betty handed the baby to Sara and left the room to give them some privacy. Grissom scooped up his daughter and held her in his arms as Sara adjusted herself to feed the newborn.

"Now, what are the most import roles of being a big sister?" Grissom said in his quizzing voice, telling Sara he'd already coached Aurora on this some time beforehand.

"Share my toys, be nice, and save him."

"Keep him safe. Close enough." He kissed her forehead as he bounced her around in his arms. "Your brother is named after someone very special to us." He said as he readjusted his daughter on his hip, "In fact, without Warrick, it's very possible that mommy and daddy may have never gotten together."

Sara smiled softly looking up at Grissom. It was true, if Warrick hadn't been going through that hard time in the early 2000's, Grissom may have never found a good enough excuse to bring her down to Vegas.

"Will he know the aha! game?"

"No, but we can teach him it."

"Okay!" Aurora seemed excited by this.

* * *

 **October 2022**

"Gil? Can you get that?" Sara called out after hearing the phone ring for the third time without him answering. Her hands were full with balancing Warrick on her hip and helping Aurora with her homework. The phone stopped ringing, signaling he'd picked up.

A few moments later, Grissom emerged, the cordless phone held to his chest, showing her it was muted, "It's for you."

"Who is it?"

"Catherine."

Sara looked up. "Really?" He simply nodded in return and extended his hand out to her. As she took the phone he reached out to grab Warrick from her. Sara quickly stepped outside to take the call.

Grissom looked at his son in his arms now. It was hard to believe he was already four years old, and Aurora, sitting patiently while doodling in the margins of her homework was six—already in 1st grade. She looked more and more like Sara with every passing day.

Sara walked back inside and placed the phone on the counter.

"What was that all about?"

"They need me to come back and testify on a case from 2012. It's on appeal."

"I see. When do they need you?"

"Tomorrow." She paused briefly. "I told her I'd do it."

"Of course. Why not." Grissom put Warrick down on the ground and watched as he climbed up onto a chair next to his sister, peering over at what she was drawing in awe.

"You know... we haven't really done a great job at keep in touch with the team. I don't think we even told them about the kids."

Grissom's brows raised, "I just assumed you did." She shook her head.

"This may be a good opportunity."

Grissom nodded in agreement and turned back to the kids, "Alright! Who wants to go see where Mommy and Daddy used to work?"

Silence.

"It involves going on a plane." Instantly Aurora's hand shot up. And whatever Aurora did, Warrick had to follow, so his hand quickly raised too. "Alright then, it's settled. We're going to Vegas." Soft cheers expelled from the children as they danced in their chairs. Grissom shot a look back at Sara knowingly.

"You'll have to review the case."

"Yeah. She's faxing over the documents I need now."

"Okay. I'll take care of the kids and dinner for tonight and see what we can do about flights." He kissed her lips softly. She watched as he returned to the table to sit next to Aurora and help her with her homework. Sara let a smile dance across her face at the beautiful sight in front of her.


	67. Chapter 67

Flying with the kids proved a much simpler task than Sara or Grissom expected. Aurora kept her brother busy the whole flight teaching him new signs she'd learned for her favorite bugs and making a make-shift fort out of the plane blankets.

"Do you want to head to the hotel or come with me to the lab?" Sara asked as they entered the taxi and put the car seats in place.

"We'll come with you." He smiled, "I'd be nice to see Catherine and Greg."

Catherine and Greg. They were the only two left from their original team. Nick had left the lab even before Sara had, and Brass was long retired now. Grissom gave the driver the address to the lab, and 30 or so minutes later they'd arrived. Luckily, both Aurora and Warrick dozed off in the car, ensuring Grissom and Sara that they'd been in good spirits for the rest of the day.

"Here we are." The cabbie said in a deep, muffled voice. Sara and Grissom unloaded their luggage and the kids and stood in front of the building. Grissom reached out and held Sara's hand in his as they looked at the building. It'd been 7 years since they'd been here, where it all began.

"Daddy!" Grissom looked down to see Aurora pulling at his hand that was holding Sara's. He let go of Sara's hand and picked up their daughter.

"Ready?" He turned toward Sara. She simply nodded in return. They walked through the double doors and was instantly greeted by the receptionist. Even after all this time, it felt weird to Grissom not to see Judy sitting there.

"Sidle." Sara said as the girl checked the list.

"Here you are." She handed her a visitors badge.

Sara turned back to Grissom, "I'm going to go find Catherine." Grissom nodded, silently agreeing to watch the kids. Once Sara had disappeared down the hall, he crouched down and turned to the kids.

"Alright, who wants to play a game?"

"I do!" Aurora cried.

"Me too!" Warrick instinctually added, needing to follow his big sister in every way.

"Okay, Come here." Grissom walked the halls with the kids practically undetected, not knowing any of the lab techs that passed him by. He turned a corner and saw his old office. The nameplate "Willows." hung on the door that once was his. "Okay," He looked at them, handed them each their sketch books and crayons, "Go play on the couch in there, I'll be right back."

"Okay, daddy." Aurora hugged his leg and ran off into the room. Warrick stumbling behind, trying to keep up with her.

* * *

"Sara!" Catherine walked out of layout and embraced her old co-worker, "My god, it has been so long. You look great!"

"You too, Cath. It's so good to see you. I'm sorry we've done a terrible job at keeping in touch."

"Two way street." Catherine waved her off and introduced her to the team, "You remember my daughter Lindsey, and this is Brian and Kate. Morgan is out at a scene already."

"Where's Greg?" Sara asked, worry shown through her voice.

"He is with your surprise in the AV lab."

"Oh?"

Catherine tilted her head toward the AV lab across the call, gesturing for Sara to go look. Sara walked across the hall and hesitantly opened the AV lab door.

"Greg! Nick!" Sara exclaimed in excitement at seeing the two there, reviewing footage.

"Sara!" They stood quickly and rushed over to her, enclosing her in a group hug.

"Nick! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He spoke in his signature Texan drawl, "Did you get called back for the Jeffrey Forsythe case?" She simply nodded in return.

* * *

Catherine Walked back to her office after having briefed the team on their cases for the day but she paused at the sound of giggles emanating from the room as she approached. She peaked into her office to see two children on her couch, playing together.

"Excuse me?" She said softly. The two kids looked up at her, "Who do you two belong to?" The kids looked at one another and then back up to her, staying silent, not sure what she meant.

Catherine knelt down next to them, "Do you know where your mommy and daddy are?"

"Daddy said to wait here." Aurora spoke up and Warrick nodded, but Warrick would have nodded at anything she'd say.

"Okay... and where's Daddy?" The kids shrugged.

Catherine looked at what the girl had in her hand, "What are you drawing there?" She tried to turn her head to get a better look at it.

"It's a green tiger beetle!" She exclaimed and turned the sketchpad to show Catherine, "See! Daddy says it doesn't really look like a tiger, but I like it better this way." Aurora's drawing looked like a sloppy beetle with orange and black stripes, "Daddy calls it a cin-um... cinderella campiesss.. i think."

Catherine scrunched her brows as she looked at the beetle then back up at the girl's face. As she did she almost fell over. "Oh my god." she breathed as she took a better look at the girl. Those deep blue eyes, long wavy brown hair, button nose.

"Hi, Daddy! Look!" Aurora held up her drawing, causing Catherine to spin around. There stood Grissom, in her office threshold, leaning on the door frame easily with a knowing grin plastered to his face.

"Hi Catherine." He spoke gently.

"Gil." She rushed to him and embraced him in a tight hug, "I had no Idea you were coming with Sara."

"Daddy!" Aurora was now tugging at his pant leg. He bent down and scooped her up in his arms, "Look." She held out the picture for him, "Green tiger beetle! Um, um, a, um, cinderella campiess?"

"Very close! It's a Cicindela Campetris. But it's a very hard word to say." Catherine looked at this interaction in complete awe. "I want you to meet someone." Grissom turned Aurora in his arms, angling her toward Catherine, "Aurora, this is a Catherine, a very good friend of mommy and daddy's."

"Gil..." She breathed, "I'm—I'm speechless." She shook her head in awe, "She's a spitting image of Sara. She's gorgeous." Grissom glowed like a proud parent. "Has anyone ever told you you look just like your mommy?" Catherine directed at the little girl sitting in her old friend's arms.

Aurora nodded, "But my eyes are Daddy's. See!" She opened her eyes wide causing Catherine to laugh.

He felt a tug on his other pant leg now and looked down to see Warrick, "Uppie!" Grissom steadied himself and scooped up the little boy too, balancing each child on one of his hips.

"Catherine, This is Warrick Benjamin Grissom."

Tears rushed to Catherine's eyes. She quickly wiped at them, but they kept forming. "Warrick?" She croaked, not taking her eyes off the little boy.

"Are you sad?" Aurora asked, seeing the tears well in the woman's eyes.

"No sweetie, the opposite. I'm happy. So very happy." Catherine looked up in to Grissom's eyes and smiled, "So happy."

"Gil." Grissom turned to see Sara approaching the office. "You'll never guess who's—"

"Mama!" Warrick cried out reaching for her.

"Hi sweetie." Sara took Warrick from Grissom's hold and adjusted him in her arms. "Oh Cath—" She smiled a bit apprehensively, "I brought a surprise for you _too_."

"I know." she gushed, "I've met them."

"What do you mean, _too._ " Grissom interrupted with furrowed, curious brows.

"Hey, Boss." Nick peaked in and Grissom's face lit up.

"Nicky." He smiled and hugged his former colleague. Greg followed in shortly after.

"Whoa. Who do we have here?" Greg ruffled Warrick's thick mop of hair.

"Greg, Nick—This is our son, Warrick." Sara smiled angling the boy out, "Warrick, say hi." In turn he burried his face against Sara's chest shy-like.

"And this is Aurora." Aurora waved at the two men who just joined the group.

Both Nick and Greg were speechless, they just gazed at Grissom and Sara holding their children. Chills shot up Greg's spine.

"Words can't explain what this sight feels like." Nick finally spoke, bafflement still evident on his face.

"Aurora, that's a pretty name." Greg said to the girl in Grissom's arms.

"I'm named after Aurora Bore... um—borealis?" She looked up at Grissom who nodded to show her that she was correct in her pronunciation.

"And what is Aurora Borealis?" Grissom prompted his daughter.

"It's another word for northern lights!" She smiled happily, having known the answer.

"And what are the northern lights?"

"It's a natural light show caused by magnets at the north pole because of charged particles from the sun!"

Nick began to laugh now, finally coming to terms with what he was seeing and hearing, "My god, Sara." He turned to her with a great grin plastered to his face, "She's a miniature you."

Sara smiled, "Except her eyes."

"No, Sara, I'm not talking about how she looks." He laughed a bit more, "She's vying for Grissom's attention with intelligence." He looked around, "No one else see's this? He's got a new star pupil." Laughter erupted from the group as Sara pursed her lips. Warrick lifted his head up at the sound of the laughter and smiled, allowing Greg and Nick to get a better look at him.

"This is surreal." Greg spoke as he took in Warrick's appearance. Blue eyes, blonde hair, soft pink lips and a slightly dimpled chin.

Nick looked down at this watch, "Sara, we've got to get to court."

"You're right." Sara went to put Warrick down but he cried out at the attempt.

"No mama!"

She straighten back up, "Daddy will be right here." She whispered in his ear but he shook his head against her chest. "You know, Uncle Greg has some pretty cool tools in the other room. He can show you your fingerprints and all kinds of stuff. Will you let him show you?" Warrick looked up at his mother's face and nodded softly, tears still welled within his eyes.

"C'mon buddy." Greg reached out and took the child from Sara's arms. Holding this child now felt incredibly strange to Greg. In his arms was Grissom and Sara's child. His two former-colleagues, his friends who'd he'd seen ebb and flow in their relationship over the course of 17 years. Now, the product of their love was held firmly in his grasp as the child cozied up to his new friend. The child who was named after their fallen colleague. It was all a bit too much.

Sara kissed the back of Warrick's head and then Aurora's cheek, "Be good for dad. Okay?"

Aurora nodded, "Bye mama."

Nick and Sara quickly exited the office and walked out of the lab, leaving Grissom, Greg, Catherine and the kids standing there.

"I'm sure you both have work to get to." Grissom gestured that he could take Warrick from Greg, but Greg held on tightly,

"No, I actually just wrapped a case." He insisted. "Who wants to go learn about DNA?"

"I do!" Aurora cried, causing Warrick to agree as well.

Greg put Warrick down on the ground and lifted Aurora from Grissom's hold, putting her feet back on the ground as well. "Alright! Follow me!" The kids walked in a single file line out of the office behind Greg who led them to the DNA lab.

Grissom subsequently collapsed on the couch, shoving the abandoned sketch pads and crayons into a bag.

"You look beat." Catherine smiled, taking a seat opposite him. He simply smiled in return. "How are things?"

"Things are good Cath," He smiled, "Things are really good."

"What are you two up to these days? I mean besides raising kids." She smiled widely, still shocked by the surprise.

"We're both doing consulting work actually. It works out well because it gives us some flexibility with taking care of the kids. Sara's over at Santa Monica College helping environmentalist engineers with her physics background. And I've been sitting on government task forces to research climate change."

Catherine shook her head in amazement, "It looks like you got everything you ever wanted. Sara, kids." A tear welled in her eye, "It's so hard to digest this all."

"How's Lindsey doing?"

"She's well." Catherine wiped a tear away, "CSI Level 3 now. It is a little hard being her supervisor. I can't treat her differently, but there are time when I worry for her safety on certain scenes." Grissom nodded in understanding, "Greg does her evals, so that helps."

"So much has changed." Grissom spoke a bit wistfully.

"Our team feels like a different lifetime ago. Sara, Nick, Greg...Warrick, You... It's like a distant memory." She paused, "It's really beautiful you named your son Warrick."

He smiled softly, "It was Sara's idea." He paused a moment, "You know—We're uh, we're planning to see Eli while we're in town." He looked at the pained expression on Catherine's face, "Any interest in seeing him?" Grissom hadn't met Eli yet at this point and he knew from Sara that Catherine had only met him once, when they'd investigated the case involving Tina.

"I don't think I can." She croaked, "It's too hard."

Grissom nodded in understanding, "You loved him."

She nodded sadly, "But we never took the risk you and Sara did. I don't even think it crossed our minds to be honest. And then he got married." Another tear slipped from her eye as she wiped it away. "It's just too hard to see him."

* * *

Warrick and Aurora were seated on the work bench table, legs dangling.

"So after I swab you cheek, I put the q-tip in this magic machine." Greg cut of the swab tip and placed it in the DNA profiler. "It's going to spin around real fast and tell your complete scientific make up."

"But it's not really magic." Aurora challenged.

"Of course it is!"

Aurora shook her head, "We call things magic that we can't explain with science yet."

Greg's mouth dropped open. He should have known better than to think he was dealing with an average six year old, "What do you think, Warrick."

"I think it's magic!" He rarely ever disagreed with his sister, on anything—except when it came to fairy tales.

"I think you're right." Greg pretended to whisper through the side of his mouth causing both children to giggle. Greg then proceeded to tell Aurora about the way the machine really works, trying his best to simplify it. Then the machine beeped and printed out results. Greg rolled over to retrieve them and gazed down at the paper.

"Aha!" He spoke animatedly and he flicked the paper, "Just what I expected."

"What?" Aurora asked curiously.

"You're a Grissom." He showed Aurora the paper, where Sara and Grissom's ID photos were placed next to her genetic profile. "You have 13 alleles in common with your mom, and 13 with your dad, and 7 with your brother."

"Why do you have mom and dad's DNA?"

"Well they used to work here with us. And anyone who works here has to have a DNA profile here."

"Oh."

"Has your mommy and daddy ever told you the story about how they got together?"

Aurora nodded hesitantly, not sure if she was right, "Warrick—the other Warrick, did something bad and mommy had to come here to check it out and that how mommy and daddy met."

"No way, your mom and dad have a much better story than that! It's full of romance and danger and excitement."

"Tell me!" Aurora squealed, causing Warrick to repeat her. "Tell me!"

"Okay." Greg got his story telling face on and leaned in close to the children, "Once upon a time there was a lonely scientist. He spent all his days and all his nights buried in books, and conducting experiments. Then one day, he met a beautiful, young scientist in San Fransisco." He paused, "Do you know where San Fransisco is?"

Aurora nodded, "Thats where Grandpa Dave and Grandma Susan are. Oh, and Uncle Harry!"

"Very good. Well it was there that this lonely scientist met the beautiful young scientist. But soon he had to return to Vegas and leave her. For days and then months he tried to find ways to see her again. That's when Warrick—" Warrick perked his ears up at his name, "The other Warrick," Greg amended, "made a mistake. The lonely scientist decided it was the perfect time to see the beautiful scientist again! So he brought her to Vegas to work on the case. Now the beautiful scientist liked the lonely one a lot, which is why she decided to stay. But the lonely scientist didn't know how to love. The beautiful scientist loved the lonely one _so much_ that she spent six years waiting for him."

* * *

Grissom gestured to the door, "let's go see what they're up to." Catherine and Grissom walked to the DNA lab and stood in the doorway watching undetected.

* * *

He turned to Aurora as he continued, "Thats as old as you are!" She nodded in understanding, "She taught the lonely scientist how to love, and then, he was never lonely again. And they lived happily ever after."

Aurora scrunched her face, "What about Costa Rica? Or France? Or when daddy became a pirate?"

Grissom laughed from the doorway, causing the three of them to turn and see they had visitors. "Daddy was never a pirate silly. You don't have to be a pirate to sail the seas."

Warrick slid to the edge of the table and Greg picked him up to put him on the ground. He quickly ran to Grissom, "Uppie!" Grissom scooped up the child and hugged him.

"Daddy, I have 13 alleles in common with you! That's why I have blue eyes." Aurora said as she kicked her dangling legs.

"Wow! What else did uncle Greg teach you?" He asked as he moved into the DNA lab, smiling at Greg. Catherine stayed standing in the doorway, watching Grissom interact with his children so naturally. His introverted, hesitant demeanor seemed to virtually vanish around his children. It was a beautiful sight to watch.


	68. Chapter 68

"Sara!" Sara turned around to see a familiar face.

"Doug?" She smiled widely as Nick stuck out his hand to shake Doug's, saying hello. He wrapped her up in a quick embrace. "I should have known you were being deposed for this as well."

"Yeah. I just finished up. How the hell have you been? I haven't seen you since this case."

"I've been good." She smiled. Nick politely excused himself to give them some time to talk. "How are you?"

"Good, good. Still in the Bay. What about you? Last I heard you were the Vegas lab director."

Sara laughed whole heartedly at this, "I was only the lab director here for a mere four or five hours."

"What happened?" Worry filled his eyes.

"I decided Vegas wasn't the right place for me anymore. I'm actually in Santa Monica now."

"Back to the sunshine state. Knew you couldn't keep away. And uh—What's the bug guy's name?"

"Grissom?"

"Yeah, Grissom. You two still married?"

Little did Doug know that just shortly after the last time she saw him that she and Grissom got divorced—or at least she thought they had. But there was really no need for him to know any of this now.

"Yeah, we're still together. This time he's in town, care to invite yourself as the third wheel to dinner again?" She playful jabbed at him, calling attention to that time when he'd tried to seduce her regardless of the fact that she was married, "Although this time you'd be a fifth wheel."

"Kids?" His eyes bugged wide open.

"Two, a boy and a girl."

"No shit. How do you look like that after having two kids?"

"I'll take that as a compliment." She pursed her lips.

"As you should."

"Sidle." The bailiff called out into the hallway.

"I've got to go. It was great catching up with you though."

"Yeah." He said with a hint of nostalgia in his eye, "Yeah, you too." He watched as she walked toward the court room doors, "Give 'em hell." He called after her, she reward him with a sidle-grin before disappearing.

Doug Wilson got into his car and drove to the Las Vegas Crime lab. His mind spinning with the life update he'd just received from his friend. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, perhaps jealous. There was always some part of him that thought Sara could be a possibility, that they'd find there way together. But that fantasy was just crushed, and he couldn't quite place his feelings. He thought back to the girl with the pony tail and large thermos of coffee that he'd sat down next to at the Forensic Academy conference 23 years ago. That was the moment their paths converged, and ultimately the moment their paths became destined to diverge. For while he was the man she sat next to, it was the lecturer that had stolen her heart.

Doug walked through the lab halls until he found Catherine.

"Mrs. Willows?" Catherine had no longer been a part of the lab when this case was going on back in 2012, so the two really had no interaction outside of this appeal trial.

"Mr. Wilson. How'd it go?"

"Well. They just called Sara in as I was leaving." He extended a stack of files to her, "Here's the notes and evidence findings I took from the lab."

"Thanks. Well, it doesn't seem like you'll be recalled, so I think you're free to head back to San Fransisco."

"Great, great." Doug said a bit absently, his eyes searching the hall they stood in.

"Is there something else?"

"Yeah..." He spoke a bit hesitantly, not sure what exactly he wanted to say until he was interrupted.

"Hey Cath, Can I put Warrick down for a nap in your office? I want to stick around until Sara's back from court."

"Of course."

"Wow." Doug spoke through raised brows at the sight of this man holding his child in his arms. A little girl walking obediently beside him. "These are Sara's kids?"

Grissom raised one brow, "Hi, Gil Grissom." He stuck out his hand to shake the gentleman's.

"Yeah, yeah I know—Doug Willson, NTSB." He shook Grissom's hand, not taking his eyes off Aurora. The name sounded vaguely familiar to Grissom but he couldn't quite place it until Doug continued, "I sat next to sara during your lecture in 1999, _First Blush_."

"Ah." Grissom smiled, "You two dated briefly, yes?"

Doug laughed, "Yeah. Actually I have you to thank for the break up."

"Oh?"

"She only broke up with me when you asked her to move to Vegas."

"You know my mommy?" Aurora looked up at the man towering over her.

"I sure do." Doug smiled down at the child, "I knew here wayyyy wayyy back, when she was much younger."

"What was she like!?" Aurora's curiosity always got the best of her.

"Smart. Beautiful. Stubborn. A little wild."

"Alright, then." Catherine jumped in feeling awkward for everyone involved. "Gil, you said Warrick needs a nap?" Grissom looked down at the child in his arms, noting he was already fast asleep. "I'll watch Aurora till your done."

"Thanks, Cath." Grissom disappeared down the hall to retreat to Catherine's office. There, he gently transferred a sleeping Warrick to the couch, making a make-shift barrier between him and the edge of the sofa out of blankets. He left the office door open so he'd be able to hear if Warrick woke up and then retreated back down the hallway to Catherine.

"Wow!" He heard Aurora squeal as he approached. "Daddy, he made mommy a plane!" Grissom furrowed his brows, to which Doug elaborated,

"I built her a to scale model plane in the garage for this case... my plane verses her physics." He shrugged. "Anyway, I should get going." He turned to Grissom, "Dr. Grissom, it was nice to see you again. Take care of my girl will ya?" With an awkward smile and a turn on his heels, Doug disappeared down the hall and out of view.

Cath and Grissom exchanged an all-knowing look until they heard a high pitched shriek coming for around the corner. They quickly went to investigate it as Grissom instinctually swept Aurora up into his arms. Around the corner they found Hodges standing out in the middle of the hall.

"Okay, whose kid is this!?" He bellowed.

"Geeze." Grissom ran into Hodges' trace lab having put Aurora down next to Catherine, "Warrick." He scooped his child up into his arms, "What are you doing up?"

"I wasn't sleepy anymore."

"Grissom?" Hodges' eyes opened wide, "Gil! What are you doing here?"

"Hey Hodges." Grissom smiled, "Sorry about that. I thought he was down for a nap."

"That's yours? I—I mean, He's yours? You have a kid? Gil Grissom?" Hodges' mouth was dropped low in astonishment.

"Warrick, meet Hodges."

"Hi." His small almost frighten voice spoke as Grissom ran his hand through this son's hair, trying to calm him.

"Wow." Hodges shook his head, "Wow."

"And that's Aurora." Grissom said angling his head in gesture to the Girl standing by Catherine.

Hodges took one look at the girl and spoke without missing a beat, "Oh, so they're Sara's?" His voice echoed distain.

"How's the trace evidence on the Malone case coming along?" Catherine scolded Hodges', who—taking the hint—scurried back into this kid-free lab.

"What was that about?" Grissom turned to Catherine, speaking softly. While he knew Hodges' was always a bit peculiar around him, he still felt that comment came out of left field.

"Let's just say hodges was in favor of the d-i-v-o-r-c-e."

"Who got divorced?" Aurora looked up at Catherine.

"Geeze, can you get a grip on your kid here? I think she's too smart for her own good." At this Aurora glowed, a big smile revealing her slightly gap toothed grin as she swayed back and forth happily.

"Aurora, do you want to help daddy put Warrick down for a nap?"

"Okay, can we read him the dinosaur story?"

"We sure can." Grissom glowed and retreated back to Catherine's office where he sat down on the couch. Aurora handed Grissom the book as he began to read aloud, with their two heads pressed close to his ribs on either side and their thing legs lying straight out on the sofa cushions, warm against his own. Catherine sat behind her desk catching up on some paperwork.

"You sure this isn't distracting, Cath? I can take them back to the hotel."

"You're fine, Gil. Really." Of course it was distracting, but Catherine was having too much fun gaining a glimpse into this new life of her old friend. She kept her peripheral on the sight, and it warmed her heart.

"...Big dinosaur, small dinosaur. Green dinosaur, Pink dinosaur." Grissom read on, Aurora interrupting every now and then to point out what each dinosaur really was. "That's a T-Rex, or a Tyrannosaurus." "And that's a Brachiosaurus." "Oh, oh, thats a Stegosaurus. That's my favorite one because their backs look like flower pedals. Like the garden." and Grissom would respond with "That's right." and "Very good." Feeling Warrick's breathing begin to even out against his chest, signaling he had drifted back off to sleep.

Aurora lifted her hands and began to sign to Grissom, "He's sleeping now. We have to be quiet."

Grissom smiled, seeing Catherine's expression out of the corner of his own eye, "That's right. Lets get up slow." Aurora followed her father's lead and got up quietly, helping tuck him in under the blanket.

"Go." Catherine whispered, "I'll be here for at least an hour."

Grissom nodded and walked out of the office with Aurora. Warrick's nap time was always a special time for her and Grissom as they got to do all the things that Warrick may still be too young for, or feel left out.

* * *

Sara walked into Catherine's office, "Hey Cath—" Catherine cut her off, shhhing her as she pointed to the sleeping child on the couch. Sara smiled warmly and walked over to her son, kissing his head gently. She then sat down across the desk from Catherine, whispering now, "Where'd Grissom go?"

"Not sure, He took Aurora somewhere. How'd it go in court?"

"Well. I don't think we have anything to worry about. The Jury seemed to understand the physics of it all, the motive, and the new evidence findings were clearly done in poor practice."

"Good." Catherine smiled, changing the subject, "That girl has Grissom wrapped around her finger."

Sara smiled widely, "It's a little weird, isn't it? After all this time, I still find myself in awe when I watch him be a father to them."

"It's a weird side of him." Catherine counted, "I've never seen him as at peace as he is with those kids. And Aurora, I mean wow—what a great kid."

* * *

Later on, once Nick was back from court the old team—and two tiny new additions—went to Franks for lunch. They sat around laughing, reminiscing on old times and old cases—keeping it PG in mixed company.

"Hey, I've got a riddle for ya." Nick spoke leaning down toward Aurora.

"Okay!"

"Say Milk five times.

"Milk. Milk. Milk. Milk. Milk."

"Okay, now spell Milk three times."

"M-I-L-K. M-I-L-K. M-I-L-K."

"Now say Milk three more times."

"Milk. Milk. Milk."

"Okay, now what do cows drink?"

"Water. Why?"

Nicks face dropped and the table erupted in laughter.

"At 30 years old I didn't know that riddle. And your dad used that as an excuse _not_ to give me a promotion."

Aurora giggled, "That's silly."

Once lunch was wrapped hugs were shared and smiles exchanged. "Keep in touches," and "We'll see you soons."

"Gil," Catherine pulled Grissom aside as Nick and Greg said goodbye to the children, "I went to the bank today and got a statement." she handed him the small slip of paper, "It's how much has accumulated in the college fund we all started for Eli after Warrick died. He should know how much he has."

Grissom nodded, "Thank you." He pocketed the slip, "I'll talk to Tina about it when we see them later."

Catherine moved in and hugged him tightly, "I am so very happy for you, Gil." She whispered in his ear before letting him go and smiling.


	69. Chapter 69

A/N: A bit of a note on timeline here: In the show they fast forwarded Eli's age for that episode in season 13 "Fallen Angels. I'm going to back track here a little bit and make Eli's age what his actually age would have been since he was an infant in 2008 when Warrick died.

* * *

"Sara!" Eli came running out of the house and plowed right into Sara with a big hug. Eli stood at almost Sara's height now at only 14 years old. His hair wild and bright green eyes wide.

"Eli!" She wrapped both arms tightly around him and rocked him back and forth. "I almost didn't recognize you, you've grown so much!" Tina emerged from the house standing on the porch and waving. Behind them, Grissom got the kids out of the car.

"Who's mommy hugging?" Warrick asked looking up at his dad. But Grissom didn't respond, his eyes were fixated on Eli's face that peaked over Sara's shoulder as they continued their embrace. Tina now joined them on the lawn and Eli let go so that Tina could say hello.

"It's so good to see you, Sara." Tina smiled, giving her a quick embrace. "Dr. Grissom." She moved passed Sara and now hugged Grissom, "It's been a long time." Grissom simply smiled and nodded in return.

"Eli, This is Gil Grissom, my husband." She turned to show Grissom Eli, smiling widely as she watched Grissom take in the boy's appearance. "Grissom worked with your dad for over 15 years at the Crime Lab."

"It's nice to meet you." Eli stuck out his hand and Grissom absent mindedly shook it.

"And." Sara bent down and scooped Warrick up in her arms, "This is Aurora, our daughter." She placed a soft hand on Aurora's back as she waved hello, "And this," She motioned to the child in her arms, "Is our son." She turned to child in her arms, "Can you tell them your name?"

Warrick smiled proudly, knowing he could, "Warrick Benjamin Grissom."

Sara smiled, "We named him after your dad."

"ohhhh!" Aurora exclaimed at connecting the dots of what was happening.

Tina invited them in and they group of them spent some time together. Eli updated them on some stuff that was going on in school, his grades, new interests. Every now and then Grissom would zone out for a moment, just staring at Eli—A spitting image of Warrick right down to his mannerisms. He understood now why Catherine would have found it so hard to come, to spend time with the boy.

Before leaving Grissom pulled Tina aside and handed her the bank slip, "What is this?" She asked through a scrunched face.

"The team started a college fund for Eli after Warrick passed. We thought, now that he's in High School and gearing up to look at colleges, you should know how much leeway you have financially."

Tears began to well in Tina's eyes, "Warrick was very lucky to have you all in his life." She spoke with choked words as tears fell. She wiped at them quickly.

"We were lucky to have Warrick in our lives." Grissom amended, "It's not fair that Eli will never know the man he was."

Tina smiled sadly, "Thank you."

* * *

 **December 2023**

Sara stirred awake to the sound of the phone ringing. It's amazing how quickly habits change. Back when they were CSI's a middle of the night phone call would be answered on the second ring and they'd be out the door less than 10 minutes after. Now, a middle of the night call was so uncommon, that it took Sara minute to fully realize what that noise was.

"Sara Sidle?"

"This is she." Sara spoke in a haze.

"My name is Tracy Mona, I'm calling from Child Services." Sara sat straight up, eyes wide open. "I'm calling about Eli Brown. Are you aware that you're listed as his Eli's Guardian in Tina Brown's last will and testament?"

Sara shook Grissom's shoulder bringing him to consciousness.

"What happened?"

"Tina passed away earlier this evening." Tears began to sting Sara's eyes.

"What is it?" Grissom whispered and he turned on the night stand lamp.

"I'm going to need you to come down to the Las Vegas Crime Lab to discuss this in further detail."

"Okay." Sara croaked. "I'll get on the next flight out."

Sara hung up the phone, tears free falling from her eyes.

"Sara." Grissom's voice was soft and gently, but filled with concern and worry, "Who was that? What's wrong?"

"It's Tina..." She managed through steep intakes of breath, "She died."

Grissom covered his mouth with his hand, tears stinging his eyes, threatening to fall. He quickly grabbed Sara up and wrapped strong arms around her. They sat there for a moment like that, silent.

"Gil." Sara finally spoke once she regained some of her composure, "Tina named us his Guardians." She looked at him, there was no question in her voice, but there certainly was in her eyes.

"Of course."

"Are you sure? Do we have to think about anything here? Logistics, his schooling, finances?"

"No." Grissom spoke sternly, "Go get him, we'll figure everything out after." Sara nodded softly. "Are you okay doing this alone?" Grissom had a state representatives committee meeting in the morning on climate change, and someone had to stay with the kids. She simply nodded again. She pulled out her phone and quickly booked the next flight out.

She then stood and got dressed with trembling hands. Grissom had disappeared to the kitchen and returned with a cup of coffee. It was 3 in the morning now, and he knew she wouldn't be in vegas at the lab until close to 5 am. She shoved a few things into an overnight bag and made her way to the front door.

"Mama?" Warrick appeared in the hallway, watching her with a packed bag, "Where are you going?"

"Warrick." She whispered, trying hard to will the tears away, "You need to go back to sleep."

"Where are you going?" Grissom heard the exchange and quickly picked up their son.

"Mommy's just going on a quick trip to see your cousin Eli. She'll be back soon."

"Why are you sad mommy?"

Sara quickly walked over to him and kissed his forehead, "I'll see you tomorrow baby. Be good for daddy." She then looked up at Grissom and saw the tears perched in his eyes, "I'll text you when I get in." She kissed his lips softly and left the house.

* * *

As Sara sat at the gate, waiting to board she took out her phone and dialed quickly.

"Willows."

"Catherine." Sara's voice was still small and hoarse with tears.

"Sara. I was going to wait until the morning to call you..." Catherine's voice trailed off. Sara could hear the tears behind her words as well.

"What happened."

"We believe it was a drunk driver... Eli was in the car. He's okay, but he has a broken arm." She paused a moment, taking in a deep breath, "Sara, how did you hear about this? The news isn't running it yet."

"Child services called." She kept wiping at the tears, but they just kept falling, "Tina made Gil and I Eli's legal guardians. I'm in the airport now. I should be in the lab by 5. Will you still be there?"

"I will. I'll see you then."

* * *

Sara walked into the lab and was immediately met by a somber Catherine.

"He won't talk to anyone. Not me, not the social worker." Catherine shook her head sadly.

"Where is he?"

Catherine lead Sara to the waiting room. There he was, head slumped down, posture low, his arm casted up from his wrist past his elbow. A woman sat next to him, and at the sight of Sara and Catherine, she stood up.

"Mrs. Sidle? Tracy Mona." Sara shook her hand, not taking her eyes off Eli. "There are some documents an legal processes we need to discuss before we can relinquish Eli to your custody." Sara simply nodded. "Shall we?"

"Do you mind if I talk to him first?"

"Oh, yes. Sure." Tracy stepped aside and Sara walked past her, taking a seat next to Eli.

"Eli?" Sara's voice was so small now, tears threatening to well and fall once more. He didn't pick up his head, he just continued to stare at his feet, "I'm so sorry, Eli." She placed a soft hand on his back. At this, he turned his head to face here. His face was all scratched up—likely from the deploying of the airbag—and his eyes were bloodshot and swollen and full of water.

"I don't know what happened." He croaked sadly, "I don't know what happened." It was the first time he'd spoken since the incident. Sara wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "I don't know what happened." He now sobbed against her. She could feel his chest heave in an out with each ragged, effortful breath. They stayed like that for a while until his breathing seemed to even out.

"Eli?" He looked at her now with his sad eyes, letting her know she had his attention, "Eli, did your mom ever talk to you about what would happen in this situation? Where you would go?" He shook his head in return, "Well she put in her will that you'd come to live with me—me and Gil." She took a moment to let this sink in, "I know that there's a lot going on right now, and that you're probably very confused, but the state called me tonight so that I can fulfill your mom's wishes. But this is your choice too, Eli."

Eli nodded, understanding what Sara was saying. They sat in silence for a long moment until he finally spoke, "Okay." His voice was so small it was barely audible. "Thank you."

"I'll always be here for you."

"No, I mean—thank you for not saying that it's going to be okay."

Sara smiled sadly at this. Maybe it was because of her own numerous times at being in a similar situation to the one Eli was in now that made her not even think about uttering those words. Those words with their hollowed meaning, offering nothing but piece of mind for the person saying them. She hugged him tightly at this.

"I'm going to get everything sorted out so you can come home with me. Okay?"

Eli nodded.

* * *

Sara spent the next few days in Vegas getting everything sorted out. She signed the necessary paperwork, helped make the funeral arrangements, got his school records transferred and packed up Eli's room. Eli didn't speak much over those few days—only speaking when spoken too. Now they sat on the plane next to each other. Sara watched as he stared out the window, eyes wide.

"Is this your first time on a plane, Eli?" He nodded in return and Sara saw this as perfect opportunity to reintroduce some normalcy into his life. She explained how a plane works, the hydraulics and physics of it all, knowing that Eli would be intrigued by the ingenuity. And for a moment, Sara saw a faint smile appear in his eyes—perhaps for that moment, Eli forgot about his situation. For a moment, he was just another normal 15 year old kid going on an adventure.

* * *

"Daddy? Why are you painting the guest bedroom?" Grissom looked at the doorway to see Aurora was no longer playing with Warrick where he'd left them in the living room.

"Well this isn't the guest bedroom anymore." Grissom thought a moment. He was going to wait for Sara to explain this to the kids but quickly realized that it would be best to do so before Eli arrived. "Come here." Grissom spoke as he walked down the hall to the living room. He sat both kids down on the couch and sat on the coffee table across from them so he could be eye level.

"Do you guys remember Eli? We met him last year when we went to Vegas." Blank faces, "Warrick, the man you're named after, it's his son."

"Oh Yeah!" Aurora spoke enthusiastically, "he's tall!"

Grissom smiled at this and continued, "Well, Eli is coming here today. And he's going to be staying with us for a while." Grissom thought a moment, realizing he wasn't being very clear. If anything, these kids have been a great practice for Grissom's communication defects. Forcing him to simplify his thoughts and over communicate everything, "Eli's mommy had an accident so we're going to make this his new home. You both have rooms, so now Eli will have one too."

"Are you Eli's daddy now?"

"No, no. Warrick will always be Eli's dad. And Tina will always be his mom. But we're going to love him and take care of him just like we take care of you two."

"So will Eli have to eat string beans too?" Warrick spoke mimicking the disgust he felt toward to vegetable.

"That's right, Warrick. He's going to follow the same rules. But, Eli's going to be sad for a while. He's going to miss his mommy a lot, so it's on all of us to make sure he feels at home here."

"I'll share my toys with him!" Warrick said proudly.

* * *

Grissom retreated back to the guest room to make the final touches to it to be ready for Eli to move in. He stopped in his tracks when he heard tiny footsteps behind him.

"Daddy?"

Grissom turned to see Aurora standing there, biting her lip sadly.

"Is Eli's mommy never coming back?"

Grissom crouched down to his daughter. She was so incredibly perceptive, it never seized to amaze him, "Unfortunately yes. Eli's mommy isn't going to be coming back."

"Is mommy going to come back?"

Grissom scooped her up at this and held her tightly, "Of course mommy's coming back. She'll be home later today."

"But how do we know that mommy's coming back? Didn't Eli think his mommy was coming back."

Grissom sighed, "Sometimes sad things happen to good people. But you can't spend your life worrying about that." He then proceeded to try to make senese of it all to her. And while he thought that explaining such a complex life topic to a seven year old would be near impossible, she proved him wrong again. Immediately she began to understand and hugged Grissom tighter.

* * *

 **June 2026**

"You made it!" Sara smiled widely as she embraced Greg who took a seat next to Nick.

"You kidding me? I wouldn't miss this for the world." Catherine waved to Greg as he sat down. Catherine, Grissom, Sara, Nick and Greg sat in the row in that order. While Warrick and Aurora—now 8 and 10 years old respectively—sat at the end by Greg.

"Next I'd like to invite our valedictorian to say a few words. But first, let me say a few words about him. This is a boy who joined our school mid-way through his sophomore year due to a heart breaking tragedy. But in the face of tragedy, this boy rose to the occasion. He put in the extra hours to regain the weeks of school he'd lost and accepted each day as another chance to put his best foot forward. This is a boy who has show more resilience and strength than I've seen in most grown men. I've been humbled in his presence _and feel truly honored to have been able to witness his coming of age_. Eli, while I never met your parents, I can say with certainty that they would be incredibly proud of the young man you've become. Ladies and gentle, Santa Monica East High Schools 2026 Valedictorian, with a full ride to Stanford in the fall, Eli Brown."

The entire auditorium rose to their feet and applauded, including the 400 of the students he shared the stage with.

"Thank you." Eli cleared his throat softly as he readjusted the microphone, "Thank you principal, Goodman for your kind words. And thank you to my fellow classmates, friends and families for joining us today. As you can probably tell, I'm not big on the whole public speaking thing." The audience laughed softy, noting Eli's nervous demeanor, "But when given the opportunity to address you today, I decided to push past those fears."

Grissom reached for Sara's hand, squeezing it softly as Eli spoke on,

"Today, my fellow classmates and I will take this next step in our lives. Some of us will attend college, others have chosen to enlist in the marines, the navy, the army, and some of us will go straight into joining the workforce. My message today is a simple one, perhaps even cliché. With whatever you do tomorrow, once these caps and gowns are neatly folded in storage boxes and sealed away in attics and basements, I urge you to put your best foot forward. In the wake of all hardships, all challenges, and even tragedies, there is good. You just need to find it.

There will be tough times ahead, there will be emotional hardships, financial insecurities and intellectual conundrums. There will be days when your faith is challenged, and the bright, neatly planned life goal you see in your mind right now becomes deluded and messy. My advice—whatever it may be worth—is to keep on going. Take every opportunity given to you, and opportunities not given to you. You are the controller of your destiny. And your life is in no one else's hands anymore but your own.

I want to take a moment now to thank my teachers and guidance consolers who have helped me pursue my academic passions and refocus my energy when it was warranted. I would also like to thank my family—Gil and Sara, and my adoptive siblings Warrick and Aurora. Gil and Sara knew my father very well—something I never had the opportunity to do. They even named their son after him, Warrick. They have gone above and beyond to ensure that his values and life lessons would be instilled in me so that I can one day become the man he was. They tell me he was honest, hard working and caring, and I am motivated every day to embody those traits. I am forever grateful to have you all in my life. From the bottom of my heart—Thank you."

The crowd stood again, whistling and applauding wildly. He retuned to his seat, receiving hugs from a few fellow classmates he passed along the way.

* * *

"We're so proud of you." Sara said hugging Eli tightly once the ceremony was through. Eli went down the line, hugging and saying "hello's" and "Thank you's" To each of his father's former co-workers. He fist bumped Warrick and high five'd Aurora, a smile shown from ear to ear.

"Eli," Catherine cleared he throat. After all this time she still found it hard to be in his presence. And today, more than ever, he looked just like his father, "We're all so proud of you, and your accomplishment of obtaining a full ride to Stanford." She paused a moment, swallowing a lump in her throat, "After your father passed, when you were just a few months old, we all got together and opened a college fund for you. Now while you no longer need money for tuition, you will still need money for books and living expenses. We want you to focus your time on your schooling and not worrying about finances. That said, the fund is in your name and it is yours to do with as you see fit." A tear slipped from her eye now, "Your dad would be so incredibly proud of you."

Eli was speechless, emotion flowed through him and cultivated in his eyes. Tears forming briefly before he blinked them away. "Thank you." He whispered.


	70. Chapter 70

**September 2026**

Sara stood in front of the kitchen sink, looking out the window that overlooked the garden Grissom had planted all those years ago. A garden he still maintained everyday. She watched as the leaves gently swayed from the ocean breeze coming off the pacific just a few blocks down the road. Sunflowers stood tall, wild leafy plants tangled together. All the plants that attracted butterflies: Allium, Aster, Monarda and Buddleia.

She felt Grissom come up behind her, resting his head on her shoulder as he too looked out the window, seeing now the scene she'd been watching: Their children laid in the grass under the White Adler tree, stomaches down feet kicked up dangling above their backs. Their heads rested in their hands, flipping the the pages of their respective books. Every now and then Warrick would look up and say something, and without looking up from her book, Aurora would respond.

"Sometimes its still hard to believe this is our life, Gil." She spoke softly, not taking her eyes off their children. She felt him nod against her and breathe in deeply, filling his scenes with her lavender scent.

"I planted that White Adler tree the day we found out you were pregnant. Do you remember that?" Grissom but whispered in her ear. His warm breath kissing her cheek. She smiled and buried herself further in his embrace, his hands rested on her mid-section, pulling her closer to him as they continued to watch their children. The lives they created together, watched learn and grow and become the adolecents they were today.

"I don't know what I'm going to do when they go off to college." Sara spoke honestly. She'd never wanted to be one of those parents, one that felt lost without their children close, or who hung onto their childhoods so tightly that they couldn't grow or be independent. But with Eli now off at Stanford now, the thought tended to cross her mind often.

"We've got a few more years before we have to think of that." Grissom kissed the top of her head before he spoke his next words, "But I have an idea."

She turned in his embrace, "Oh?"

"Let's travel—I mean really travel. Let's go to Egypt and Israel. To Budapest and Prague. Through the mountains of Niece and canoe Amanzimtoti River in South Africa. Let's work in an medical field station in Namibia or Uganda. Let's see the world." His eyes implored, blue and bright and full of excitement.

Sara smiled her signature Sidle-gap toothed grin. "Okay."

Grissom kissed her lips softly before leaving the embrace to pick up to Sunday newspaper on the counter.

"You cold have at least waited for me to attempt it before finishing it." Grissom spoke through a sigh.

"Excuse me?" She watched as he held up the Sunday crossword puzzle, all filled out, in pen. She smiled, "That wasn't me."

The two looked out the window once more to their Children as they spoke in unison, "Aurora."

Both of their children were smart and curious, but Aurora tended to care more about that intelligence than her brother. She actively sought the approval and recognition from authority figures, worked ahead on all her homework and school work, and had an insatiable appetite for reading. Warrick, on the other hand, was more tactile in his learning. His intelligence and curiosity was often exercised by doing rather than reading. Grissom had once found him outside staring at a caterpillar for more than an hour. When he was through watching it, he sketched out the mechanics of the insect's movements. He loved to observe life and understand its workings. His grades tended to suffer slightly because of this—Making him a B student. But Gil and Sara saw the intellect in him, even though the school system skewed against thinkers like Warrick.

Grissom and Sara often spoke to lengths about how, in a way, these children were their own experiment. Raised in the same conditions but having varied outputs.

"They're going to ask one day." Sara spoke a bit absently. But she didn't need to expand. He knew what she was referring to. He knew that she worried about how and when they'd learn of the true evils of the world. When they would learn about how Warrick Brown really died, about what really happened to Sara's father and where Sara's mother actually was. She worried about how they would receive the ideas that such random acts of evil can occur to anyone anywhere. From Tina dying at the hands of a drunk driver to Sara being kidnapped by Natalie Davis.

"We can be proactive." Grissom responded just as absently and she smiled at this. Grissom, suggesting proactive communication. After all these years, after all this time, she still saw the shy, socially awkward scientist when she saw him, despite how far he'd truly come.

"I don't know..."

"Okay, why don't we wait for an opening." This was his way of saying, _we'll play it by ear_. And with no better solution or counter she nodded in agreement.

Later that night, the Grissom's sat around the table and shared the meal that Warrick and Grissom had prepared.

"It's still a little weird not having Eli here." Aurora spoke as he mindlessly forked at her food.

"He'll be back next month for fall break." Grissom offered, "He'll be here for a whole week."

"But we'll be in school for most of that." Aurora countered.

"Speaking of school..." Warrick's conversational seaways were a mirror of his fathers, abrupt and awkward. Sara Smiled at this, "We're doing this family-tree type project at school where we're supposed to find out everything about our families as we can online..."

Grissom and Sara exchanged a quick and unsubtle look. It was as if by some strange universal alignment, or comedic timing, that this _opening_ would come about mere hours after they'd discussed the topic. They waited for Warrick to find his words. He continued,

"There was some stuff online that I came across..."

"What kind of stuff?" Grissom pried. Trying to decide which horrific story they'd have to discuss with their children at almost 9 and 11 years old.

"Well when you google _my_ name, it comes up as if I'm searching for Warrick brown and you, Dad. So... there were these articles about how Warrick died..."

 _Okay_ , Grissom thought, _that one is probably a good starting point._ But then Warrick continued:

"And then some stuff came up about mom..."

Sara put down her water nervously. She felt Gil's warm hand lay on her thigh, just above her knee in an attempt to comfort her.

"Well, about Grandpa Richard more so—ouch!" Warrick yelped and looked toward Aurora who now held a stern, warning look. It scared Grissom how much that look reminded him of Sara. Thin lipped and daring. "What was that for!?"

Aurora simply shook her head, "We said we wouldn't bring this up." She whispered, but she knew there was no use, her parents could hear her.

"Now, now. Yes—there are some dark things in our families past. Many of which you've just hinted at. But all of these events, they happened a long, long time ago. Long before either of you were born. It's okay to be curious about it though." Sara spoke steadily, surprising even herself. "I don't want either of you to ever feel like you can't ask us something."

"So what actually happened to Grandpa Richard? And where is Grandma Laura?"

Sara took a deep breath, "My father... Your Grandpa Richard died when I was as old as you, Aurora. Your Grandmother has a mental disorder called schizophrenia, this was uncovered after his death. She spends her days now in a care facility in San Fransisco that can look after her."

"How come we've never met her?" Aurora's voice was very small, almost afraid like she'd upset her mother with the question.

"To be honest, it's still hard for me to visit her. But she knows about you both, asks about you all the time." She paused a moment as she looked to Grissom for confirmation, "If you two would like to meet her one day, that's something we can discuss."

But it was already onto the next topic for Warrick, "Who's Natalie?"

Sara opened her mouth but nothing came out. Just hearing the name made her old injuries throb. Grissom moved closer to Sara now and held her hand in his, squeezing softly.

"Natalie Davis," Grissom cleared his throat a bit, "Well actually, she was the most meticulous and inventive serial killer our team ever encountered during our days as CSIs." He proceeded to tell his children of the little miniature sets, exactly 1 inch scale models of the murders that would be left at the scene. He went on to discuss M.O., her mental disorder and the way in which the team found her. Trying his best to frame it in a way that wouldn't scare them. But they had so many questions, it was clear that this woman's heinous acts didn't unnerve them.

"Okay, but what does any of this have to do with mom?" Warrick asked bluntly.

"Do you remember last year when you asked me what was the most scared I've ever been?"

Warrick nodded his head slowly, "You said when you though you lost mom. Because you went out to sea without her."

"Well, only the first part of that was true." Grissom confessed. He proceeded to tell his children of the scariest 24 hours of his life. How he felt upon seeing the miniature in his office. How the team had found out about their relationship. About finding a hiker in the sand.

Sara sat quietly as he retold the story. And realized for the first time, she'd never heard his perspective of these event. She'd never heard about what happened as they searched for her, how he felt, the conversations that had taken place. It was like reliving the days in his eyes, and her heart began to constrict, realizing how much pain he must have gone through. Realizing that he was healing emotionally while she was healing physically. Realizing that he'd been so broken up, but kept himself together for her. Realized now, the full impact her departure from Vegas must have left on him.

"You really dug yourself out from under a car!?" Warrick asked with awe.

"I did." Sara said softly, "And I had a dislocated shoulder at the time to prove it." She said in an attempt to lighten up a bit.

The kids spoke simultaneously: Warrick, "Wow!" Aurora, "That must have been scary."

This statement alone show'd the vast difference in the children. Warrick focusing on the silver lining of every situation, blind to negativity or fear. While Aurora was incredibly emotionally mature and perceptive. In truth neither Gil or Sara knew where she got that from as it was a definite flaw in both of their personalities.

"Your mom is the strongest person I know." And he meant it.

* * *

March 2033

Aurora sat alone in her room with the door closed. Sitting on the floor with her back against the bed frame. She took a deep breath in, crinkling the envelope in her hands. She wasn't quite sure what outcome she wanted in all of this. And her parent's lack of bias on the matter made things surprisingly harder. One finally breath, deep filling her lungs. She held it as she ripped open the envolope:

 _Ms. Aurora Grissom,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Harvard University for admission in our undergraduate program this fall, 2033._

Aurora stopped reading and shoved the papers back in the envelope as she heard the front door open. She quickly lifted her mattress and stuffed the papers there along with six or seven other letters and folded the bedding over it.

Grissom saw Aurora's shoes by the door, her backpack there beside them. The mail thrown hastily on the counter. He closed his eyes briefly. He often tried to suppress his investigator instincts when it came to the kids. But he often couldn't help it.

There was the one time last year when he'd known she'd had a boy in her room. _Small flakes of dirt had lead upstairs, evidence that someone hadn't taken their shoes off. There had been two water glasses abandoned on the dining room table, small bits of ice floating in one told him they weren't set there for too long. A chewed pencil laid next to one glass. He remembered the feeling of his stomach dropping, a large lump forming in his throat. At that point, neither he nor Sara had established any rules or guidelines for that—their daughter was 16 at the time and neither had even thought of the subject. Then, he had quickly retreated to the home office and dialed Sara's number:_

 _"Hey Gil."_

 _"There's a boy in her room."_

 _"Excuse me?"_

 _"Dirt on the carpet; two abandoned water glasses—one with ice still; chewed pencil;"_

 _He had heard Sara's low laugh on the other end, "Okay. What should we do about that?"_

 _"That's why I'm calling you."_

 _Sara smiled at this. Grissom became visibly uncomfortable whenever Aurora was framed in a light other than that of a child or intellectual. It reminded her a little of how Brass used to view Elle, unable to see anything but the six year old coloring._

 _"I'll be home in five."_

 _"So—uh... you know. What do I—" She could just picture his fingertips touching together with awkward hesitation._

 _As promised Sara had been home less than five minutes later, having already been on her way when Grissom's call came in. She walked in and saw all the microscopic evidence that Grissom had seen, concluding to his theory of an extra guest in her room. Sara walked upstairs, making sure her footsteps weren't too quiet. She knocked two fingers on her daughters door._

 _"Come in."_

 _Sara opened the door and found her daughter sitting on the floor with a textbook in her lap, a boy sat across from her with a notebook and pencil in hand. He quickly stood._

 _"Mrs. Grissom." He held his hand out to shake hers. "It's nice to meet you."_

 _"Mom, this is Jake Phillips. He's in my Econ class."_

 _Sara smiled widely at Jake as he took his seat back on the floor. "Nice to meet you, Jake." Sara closed the door a little bit behind her as she moved in toward her daughter. In a low voice she spoke,_ _"Aurora, you're going to give your dad a heart attack." Aurora furrowed her brow in confusion, Sara waited for it to click for her and watched as Aurora's eyes widened and red spread across her cheeks._

 _She threw her face in her hands, "Ugh, mom. We're just studying."_

 _"In the future just study in the living room or leave the door open._

Now, a year later, Grissom found himself just as unable to ignore the evidence in front of him. He sighed as he climbed the stairs to reach Aurora's room. He knocked gently until he heard her softly speak "Come in."

"Hey kiddo."

"Hey dad." Aurora sat with her back still against the bed a textbook in her lap. But it was a textbook from last year's class, clearly she'd picked up the closest thing laying next to her. Evidence Grissom couldn't ignore. He took a seat next to her on the floor.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you rushing home to beat me or your mother here every day. The mail quickly discarded on the counter." He raised one brow.

"Oh."

"Whatever is going on with your college applications, you can tell me."

Aurora turned around and lifted her mattress, letting Grissom see underneath to the scores of discarded envelopes. He sorted through them quickly, eyes wide. "Aurora..." He merely whispered. "This is incredibly. You should be proud of yourself." He watched as she shrugged, diverted her eyes and bit her lip.

"Are you nervous about something?"

"I just don't know what to do... The Harvard one came in today."

"Well, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know. I could go to your alma mater and stay closer to home at UCLA, or I could go across the country to mom's alma mater and go to Harvard. Or I can be with Eli in Sanford now that he's doing a graduate program there. I could accept Berkeley, mom's other alma mater and I'd be close to Grandpa Dave and Grandma Sussie... Or I could go to Georgetown where Uncle Harry just took that professorship..." Grissom had a big smile plastered to his face. At the sight of this she cut herself off from talking, "What?"

"Your mother does the same thing—over talking when she's nervous." Grissom tucked a loose hair behind Aurora's ear, causing her to look up. She still looked so much like a child, It was hard for him to believe they were having this conversation at all. Her knees tucked up to her chest, long arms wrapping around her legs.

"I'm afraid to make the wrong choice."

"Things that matter most must never be at the mercy of things that matter least." He let his words sit there for a while as the silence between them persisted.

"Johann Wolfgang von Goethe?"

"Correct." Grissom smiled, watching Aurora's face light up, "But I'm not quizzing you. What I mean to say is—It doesn't matter where you are in relation to us, your grandparents, uncle Harry. It doesn't matter if you go to one of our alums or not. Nor does it matter, really, what school you ultimately choose. What matter's is what you do with your time there. So, make a list of your interests, what course work you'd like to follow, what extra-curriculars intrigue you, and pick a school that excels in those programs. Nothing else matters."

Aurora jumped into Grissom's arms, hugging him tightly. He rubbed small comforting circles on her back, "I think that's exactly what I needed to hear." She breathed.

* * *

 **June 2033**

Warrick rushed toward Aurora at the sight of her, still wearing her white cap and gown, nearly bulldozing her over with a big hug. He picked her up and spun her around. "Put me down!" She cried through a laugh as he carried her over to Grissom, Sara and Eli.

"Congrats, Rory" Eli smiled as he fist bumped her.

Sara wrapped her up in a hug, "We're so proud of you." She whispered into her ear and kissed her forehead. Grissom swept her up once Sara let go. She watched the sight fondly as they held a long embrace. _How had so much time passed?_ It felt like just yesterday that he was holding her in his arms, wrapped in a small pink blanket, agreeing on her name.

That summer, Aurora and Grissom spent countless nights together walking the length of the beach, observing bugs in the garden and debating various intellectual conundrums. But soon the day came when she was off to school: She'd ultimately decided on Harvard, noting that it had nothing to do with her mother's or Harry's previous attendance there. And when that day came, and it was just Warrick, Grissom and Sara sitting around the dinner table, Sara could see the conflicting emotions in Grissom's eyes as he continued to sneak glances at the empty seat beside him.


	71. Chapter 71

**October 2033**

Aurora stood look at the bulletin board outside her Ethics lecture hall. Trying to kill time before class would start. _Missing cat; Democratic Socialists club; Crew Try-outs; Guest lecture—_ Her heart nearly stopped as she saw a familiar name on the flyer and looking down at her watch, she quickly realized that this particular lecture was taking place in the building next door in five minutes. She didn't even have to think about it as she bolted out of the hall to the next one over, effectively blowing off her Ethics class.

She snuck into the back of the lecture hall and listened on as the man behind the podium spoke enthusiastically about the holy trinity of evidence. Something she'd heard from her parents countless times before. He looked different from the last time she'd seen him: His hair shorter and more tamed with salt and peppered streaks. She continued to bite back a smile as she thought about the ways that she'd make her presence known to him.

Finally, the lecture ended and students began to filter out. But not all of them. Several girls flocked to the stage, charmed by his kind face and easy intellect. Aurora stayed seated in the back until a few of the left over students began to make their way out. Finally, she couldn't wait any longer.

"I'm sorry to interrupt—" She spoke through the words of a girl going on about her own studies, "But I feel like you forgot a crucial part of your lecture."

"And what would that be?"

"Dr. Grissom always started off by discussing the impact of first blush."

"Dr. Grissom?" The man smiled at the name, "You seem too young to know of his lectures. He hasn't been a CSI in god, upwards of 25 years."

"You don't recognize me?" Aurora watched as the man before her squinted his eyes in confusion. The girls around him awkwardly staring at her, annoyed that she'd cut into their conversation.

"I'll help you, the last time I saw you was at Eli's graduation." She watched as his face dropped, eyes wide, jaw slightly unhinged.

"Aurora!?" He nearly squealed.

"It's me." She smiled, showing him her slightly gap toothed grin.

"My god." He took two quick strides to her and wrapped firm arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"Hi Greg." She smiled against him and watched as the other girls slowly grabbed their things and left the room, leaving the two alone.

"What are you doing here? You can't be in college."

"Yet here I am." She smiled widely, "I just started in September."

He shook his head, "I can't believe this. I just spoke to your mom last week, she didn't mention anything."

Aurora shrugged, knowing her mom gave few personal details to anyone unless specifically asked, "And you? Running the Boston crime lab? Congratulations."

"Thank you, it's been great so far. What are you doing now? Let me take you out to lunch."

Aurora and Greg spent the afternoon together, catching up on each others lives, discussing crime rates and areas of mutual interest. He took her to the crime lab and showed her around, introduced her to the team. Aurora loved Greg. Even after all these years, he was still the fun and energetic uncle figure she'd grown so close to when she was young.

Aurora spun around in Greg's chair behind his desk. He'd disappeared a few moments earlier to take care of a problem in DNA. She looked over his desk, noting the trinkets and photos that lined it. She picked up a framed photo when she recognized some familiar faces. There was Nick, Warrick Brown, Greg, her mom, her dad, and Catherine in that order. They all looked so young. She looked at how everyone's arms were draped around each other, except for her mom and dad. His hand rested more intimately around her waist. Aurora looked up to see Greg reentering his office.

"When was this taken?" She asked holding up the photo.

He thought a moment, "Maybe 2005 or 2006."

"And your team had not idea my parents were dating then?"

Greg smiled. The cat's been out of the bag for so long that he almost forget there was ever a time when he didn't know about them. "Guess not." He smiled as he took a seat opposite her. "Your parents were very different people back then. I should have known, really."

"Why do you say that?"

"Your mom and I were very close at the time. She was my best friend in Vegas. For years we would spend our mornings after shift grabbing breakfast together or watching movies. Grabbing drinks on days off. And somewhere around the time that photo was taken, all of our post-work time together seemed to vanish. I should have realized someone else was taking up that time."

Aurora smiled, "What were they like then? Not the fairytale version."

Greg laughed, "Oh boy. Well... Your dad is brilliant. I mean truly brilliant. But he was also incredibly stupid when it came to your mom. She'd been chasing him for six years by the time he realized."

"Do you think he just didn't feel that way about her at first?"

"No. I think he was deeply in love with her from the moment they met. I just don't think he knew what that feeling was, or how to act on it. Neither of them were the easiest to get close it. Both your parents, separately, had a reputation for being uncommunicative and often emotionless. Well—" Greg quickly amended, "Your mom lived on two extreme sides of that spectrum. Most of the time she was easily emotionally divested from the work, which is very necessary in the business. But then the other half of the time she was far to emotionally invested, passionate. She'd blow up at any one of us if we didn't go the full distance for a victim. I swear the only time I've seen your dad shaken is when he's on the bad end of an argument with Sara. But that was really only for special cases."

"What qualifies as a special case?"

"We all have are ticks, you know, the crimes or victims that hit home the most. Your mom was heavily invested in crimes against animals and domestic violence victims."

"Why domestic violence?"

Greg's eyes went wide. _Did she not know? Did he open a can of worms Sara had purposefully left close._

"Oh." He said nervously, "Probably not my place to say."

"Was she in a domestically violent relationship before dad?"

"No, no."

"So what?"

He saw the worry etched across her face and realized there was no turning back now, "Has your mom ever talked to you about her childhood?"

"Just that after Grandpa Richard's untimely death, her mom's mental illness was uncovered." Aurora thought a moment, "No. I don't think I know anything else about her childhood. I know that Dave and Susie adopted her when all of that happened. And that she grew up in San Fransisco where my parents met..."

"You mom had a hard childhood."

"Did Richard hit them?"

Greg pinched the bridge of his nose, immediately reminding Aurora of her dad, "It's complicated. Your grandma was sick and Richard couldn't understand it."

"So he hit them?"

Greg nodded slowly, "I shouldn't be the one to tell you this. I'm sorry... I thought you knew."

Aurora shook her head, "No." Her voice was so small, "Did he hurt my mom?"

"He did. She suffered a few broken bones and ribs. But—I think the important moral of your mom's story is that, despite all of this, she still graduated High School two years early and attended Harvard and then Berkley until she landed a spot on the Grave team in the most prestigious lab in the country. It's a story of strength, not weakness. I mean, c'mon you know your mom. Would weak ever be close to an adjective you'd use to describe her?"

"No." Her voice was still small, "No, I wouldn't." She smiled, "I won't tell them I know."

Greg smiled, "C'mon let me show you our new ballistics lab."

* * *

"You're home early." Grissom spoke as he watched Sara take off her coat and hang it up.

She smiled, "We wrapped our last project last week, nothing really has come in yet." Sara walked toward him and placed a kiss on his lips, "Plus, Aurora texted me and was adamant that we video chat soon."

"Oh, she texted me too." Grissom looked at his phone, realizing now it was a group chat between the three. Then his phone began to buzz, "Facetime request from Aurora." Sara scooted in next to him as he answered the phone.

"Hey bug." Grissom smiled as seeing his daughter's face appear on the screen.

"Hi dad! Hi mom!" She waved back.

"Where are you? That doesn't look like your dorm room."

"It's not." She moved a little to the side and greg popped into view

"Hey Boss, Sar."

"Greg!" Sara leaned in closer to see him, "What in the world..."

"I guess when we spoke last week, you forgot to mention Aurora was at Harvard, and I forgot to mention who the new lab director in Boston was." He smiled widely, "We bumped into each other on campus."

Grissom and Sara were besides themselves, "So you two are at the lab then?"

"We are. Greg introduced me to his team and showed me around the facility. It's awesome."

The four spent the next fifteen or so minutes catching up until Greg was called away to deal with a personnel issue.

"Miss you guys!" Aurora smiled as she waved goodbye and hung up.

Grissom and Sara looked at each other now, knowing each was thinking the same thing: _She's going to become a CSI... especially if Greg has any say in it._


	72. Chapter 72

**August 2035**

"Happy birthday, Dad." Warrick put a strong hand on Grissom's shoulder as he slid into a chair next to him at the dinning room table. "You excited?"

"I should be asking you that, War."

Warrick smiled nervously, fidgeting with his fingers. "I'm feeling good. Really."

Grissom looked up as he heard Sara walk down the hall toward them, "Happy birthday, Griss." Sara placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, Dear." He spoke softly as she ran her long fingers through his hair affectionately.

"Warrick," Sara turned to her son now, "You all packed?"

"Yep. You two all packed?"

Grissom and Sara exchanged a loving look as Grissom responded, "We are."

"I can't believe you're really doing this. Where are we supposed to go for fall break?"

"You can come back here, or visit Dave and Susan." Sara suggested softly. "We wont be gone for too long."

"Six months isn't too long?" Warrick retorted, trying his best to hide the bitterness in his voice. He'd only found out about his parents plans last week as they were making arrangements to move him into his freshman dorm at Boston University, when he'd noticed their return flight was actually going to JFK instead of back to California.

"C'mon, we'll miss our flight."

The three flew into Logan Airport. Both Grissom and Sara could sense Warrick's tension, but not knowing what to do about it, they just kept silent for most of the trip. The day's events were all mapped out: They'd go to BU to move Warrick in where Aurora would meet them to help. Then, at 9pm they'd fly to JFK to get a connecting flight to South Africa.

"Alright. That should be everything." Grissom said as he laid the last of Warrick's things on his now made bed. Books on bookshelves, clothing tucked away in drawers. "Do you know when your roommate is supposed to arrive?"

Warrick looked down at his watch, "Yeah, He said around 5pm, so I guess any minute now. Aurora knows him actually. I think they're coming here together."

"Oh?" Sara asked surprised, "I thought you chose a random roommate."

Warrick shrugged in return, "I was going to, but then Aurora suggested her friend, Andrew."

Just then there was a knock on the open door. A tall boy with crazy blonde hair emerged, "Hey, I'm Andrew." The kid shook both Grissom and Sara's hand before moving to Warrick to fist bump. "My parents are parking the car, they'll be right up."

Sara turned to Grissom as Warrick and Andrew talked amongst themselves, "You're going to think I'm crazy—but doesn't that kid look a little like Greg?"

Grissom took another look at the kid and smiled, "When he was still a DNA lab tech, with the crazy hair."

"Hi Mom! Hi Dad!" Aurora rushed into the room and gave her parents a big hug. Grissom held on a bit longer.

"We thought you'd be here earlier." Sara spoke as Grissom finally let go of their daughter.

"I know. But I was with Andrew and his parents. They gave me a ride."

"How do you and Andrew know each other?" Sara asked once Aurora was through saying hi to her brother.

Aurora simply smiled in return, an all-knowing smirk as she spoke, "They're on their way up. You'll see."

And just as promised, a few minutes later Andrew's parents appeared in the doorway. "Are we interrupting something?"

Sara's face held utter and complete shock. "Greg!?" She rushed to him and hugged him tightly, then moved to hug Morgan who stood beside him. Tears of joy spilled from Sara's eyes. "What is this?"

Aurora smiled widely as she watched her parents reconnect with Greg and Morgan.

"See?" Warrick said as he nudged Aurora, "I told you I could keep a secret."

* * *

Sara and Grissom sat in their seats as the plane began to taxi out onto the tarmac. He placed her hand in his and squeezed softly, causing her to take her eyes off of the window and look at him. They exchanged a soft smile before she placed her lips on his. It had been a whirlwind of a day and both were ecstatic to learn that Warrick's roommate Andrew was actually Greg and Morgan's son. Knowing that he was in good hands between having Aurora 10 minutes down the road at Harvard, and Greg and Morgan close by should either need anything.

And now, it was time to set out on the trip Grissom promised Sara. The trip they'd planed since the kids were 9 and 11. A trip to help them forget about their newly acquired empty nest situation.

They'd start in South Africa, canoeing through the expansive rivers. Spend a few nights in Cape Town, before moving onto Mozambique, Madagascar and then traveling to Kenya where they'd take part on a Safari before making their last stop in Africa at an AIDs village in Namibia, where they'd volunteer for a week before moving north to experience Egypt, Israel and Jordan.

They arrived in Namibia by Mid-November. Despite being south of the Ecuador, that time of year tended to be on the chillier side, ranging from 50's to 60's, meaning there was little need for Grissom's silly straw hat. They made their way through the country, volunteering at various villages along the way.

"Hey Kiddo." Grissom spoke into the phone as he walked outside to take the call. He glanced back to see Sara surrounded by excited kids, kids who'd been orphaned by parents with AIDs.

"Hey Dad, how's Namibia?"

Grissom proceeded to catch Aurora up on their travels, spilling out fact over fact that he'd learned on his trip. He loved sharing his experiences with her, knowing how genuinely interested she was in it all. Now in her junior year of college, Aurora had decided upon Archeology as her major, citing that it combines her passions for science, adventure and history all together.

"What have you and Warrick decided to do for Thanksgiving break?"

"I think we're going to spend it with the Sanders'."

"That's wonderful." Grissom smiled, imagining his children sitting around the thanksgiving table with Greg, Morgan and Andrew.

"So, uh—What village did you say you're at now? I know you switched up the order a bit."

"We're at Hope Village now. Not far from Windhoek."

"Hope Village." He heard her relay. "Thanks, dad. I've—uh... I've got to go. Tell Mom I say hi."

With that the line went dead. Grissom pocketed his phone and went back inside.

* * *

Grissom and Sara sat inside a tented are with other volunteers when a car rolled up to the site. One of the other volunteers got up to go see who it was. A few moment's later that very volunteer made their way back to the tented area.

"Gil, Sara?" She spoke to get their attention, "Can I see you both outside please."

Grissom and Sara exchanged a curious look before obeying and walking out of the tent.

"What's the—" Sara began to talk before immediately stoping at the sight of their new volunteers. Warrick and Aurora stood standing there smiling, packs on their backs. She wore kaki pants and a light weight top. A bandana tied around her neck in a similar fashion to the way Sara wore hers. She looked like mirror image of her mother. Warrick on the other hand wore cargo shorts, a long sleeve T and a backwards baseball cap. They stood smiling at their parents, waiting for the shock to leave their faces.

"My god." Sara spoke softly as Aurora dropped her pack to the ground and rushed toward her mother, hugging her tightly. "What are you two doing here!?"

"We have the week off of school." Warrick shrugged through a widening smile as Grissom hugged him.

The four made their way inside, introducing them to all of the other volunteers. Once things settled down, the Grissom's sat together around a table.

"This is an incredible surprise." Grissom spoke, still awed and not taking his eyes off his children.

"It worked out well actually, we've got the week off of school so we were able to fly out together. Of course I'll be flying back alone." Sara furrowed her brows at Warrick's statement. "Oh." He quickly spoke glancing toward Aurora, realizing he'd just spilled part of the surprise.

"What is he talking about?" Grissom pressed.

"You're headed to Egypt after this, aren't you?" They nodded, "Well, so am I. There's this archeological study abroad program that I got into. We'll spend a week in Egypt, a week in Israel, two weeks in Jordan and two weeks in Greece."

Sara watched as Grissom's eyes lit up, realizing the timeline matched part of their own trip. Aurora nodded, knowing what her father was thinking.

"Yeah, so we'll be in Egypt, Israel and Jordan at the same time. Though I think we're going to be in the Northern part of Egypt, closer to Mt. Sinai."

"That's wonderful, Aurora. I think this type of work will suit you well." Sara smiled, "Though, I bet Greg's disappointed he couldn't convince you to be a CSI."

"He got one of us." Aurora smirked as she nudged Warrick.

"Hu? Oh, yeah. I've declared a criminalistics major. Greg's been giving me some really great hands-on experience at the lab."

Grissom reached for Sara's hand under the table, squeezing it softly as they listened to their children updated them on their academics. Watching as they spoke passionately about their studies, about their time in Boston, about planing this trip to surprise them.

* * *

The rest of their trip flew by. Warrick had stayed the week in Namibia with them before flying back to Boston. Aurora flew with them to Egypt but only spent a day with Grissom and Sara before joining her classmates for the program. And Grissom and Sara traveled the world for the next three months before making their way back to the states.

They laid in bed together in their Santa Monica home that night for the first time in six months. Both children were back in Boston now, and the house was quiet.

"Sara..." Grissom's voice was soft and gentle. He watched as she propped herself up on her elbow to look at him, "I—" He paused, trying his best to find the right words for how he felt in that moment, trying desperately to sum up the enormous weight of his emotions. "Thank you." It's all he could manage to think of.

A playful smile danced on her lips, "What are you thanking me for."

"For giving me this wonderful life."

This caused her smile to widen, she placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"I mean it. Sometimes I think back to the way things were, before Nick's abduction, before we got together. I think back to the shell of a person I was and I don't even recognize him. I think back to how persistent you were, all the moments we shared over layout tables and microscopes. The sneaked glances. I just—I wouldn't change our story for the world."

Sara rested her head back down on his chest, the spot she knew was meant just for her. Where she could hear his steady heart beating. The spot where she felt most at home.

* * *

THE END. (Epilogue to follow)


	73. Chapter 73

A/N: First off, thank you to all who followed and reviewed this story along the way. I originally set out to write this to give myself closure for the GSR story and I hope I achieved that for you all as well. Anyway, this epilogue officially closes out my version of their story. I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

 **August 2047**

"Dr. Grissom." Grissom smiled and stuck out his hand to the bashful girl.

"Dr. Grissom" She replied through a smile, shaking his hand as he pulled her into a tight hug.

"We are so proud of you." Grissom pressed his warm cheek to her soft brown hair.

Life had treated Grissom and Sara well. Blessed with two beautiful and intelligent children. Their eldest having just received her doctorate in anthropological studies from Stanford. Aurora had become a world traveler, spending months at a time hopping from country to country to explore, excavate and discover. Warrick, on the other hand, had indeed pursued a career as a criminalist, and had quickly earned his spot as Greg's number two in the Boston Crime Lab on his own merits.

Warrick wrapped Aurora up in a hug of his own once Grissom finally let go. "I'm so proud of you Rory." He smiled from ear to ear.

"Congratulations." The woman standing next to Warrick flashed a toothy grin her way and Aurora quickly embraced her.

"Look at you, Rachel!" Aurora spoke astonished. "Any day now right?"

"That's what they say." Warrick spoke proudly as he wrapped an arm around his pregnant wife, freeing up Aurora to be hugged by her mother.

Grissom stood back and watched the sight before him. His children were figuring life out much more gracefully than he had. At their age, he was still a socially awkward, academics absorbed loner who'd made little-to-no progress or effort toward emotionally connecting with other humans. In fact, as he began to think about it more, he hadn't even met Sara until he was 43 years old. And that was the moment he sited that he'd actually began living. And here, his youngest child was ten years younger than that, married with a child on the way.

Now in his 90's Grissom's mind was still sharp as a tack. A feat he contributed to the endless crossword puzzles over the years, to being intellectually stimulated and challenged by his co-workers, by Sara, and then by his own children. He watched as Sara slid a lock of Aurora's hair behind her ear. Smiling and showering her with praises. Praises he knew she'd never heard from her own parents. Tender touches and lovingly warm smiles that Sara had never experienced. And yet, she dished them as if they were second nature to her, as if she'd experienced their effect herself. He watched as she pushed her own graying hair behind her ear, and then pulled it up into a low pony-tail.

He smiled warmly at this, and caught a glimpse of the Golden Gate bridge behind her in the distance.

Warrick watched his father now, and nudged Rebecca to look on as well. There was so much love welled in his eyes and Grissom looked at Sara. Taking in every inch and movement. Warrick watched as his father's heart swelled. He moved to him and put an arm around him.

"I hope Aurora finds someone who looks at her the way you look at mom." He smiled, knowing that his father often worried about the men Aurora tended to date. absorbed, book-worm typed. Then again, as Sara often reminded him, that's exactly who Grissom was when they'd first gotten together.

He simply smiled at his son's statement.

* * *

A few weeks later the same group rejoined in another joyous occasion. The tiny whaling cries emanated from the small blue bundle held gently in Grissom's arms. Sara looked over his shoulder, touching the curly blonde locks of hair softly. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of new baby along with Sara's lavender scent from her close proximity to him.

Rachel looked on from the hospital bed as she sat up a bit. "His name is Abe Gilbert Grissom." She watched as her Father-in-law's lips began to curl upward, but he couldn't take his eyes off the child in his arms.

"So?" He heard Sara's soft voice and felt her warm breath on his cheek, "Did we achieve the full human experience?" Bits and pieces of his life with Sara began to flash before his eyes, specifically the first time he'd used that phrase with her, when he'd been trying to convince her to have a child with him. When they were in France together that one summer.

"Yes." He said smiling widely now and finally looking up, looking deep into his wife's brown chocolate orbs. Her eyes matching the same swell of emotion that held within his own deepening blue ones. "Yes, I believe we have."

* * *

A few years later Grissom passed on, peacefully in his sleep as the garden outside grew wildly and bustled with the life of insects and butterflies. A few years after that Sara moved to Boston to be close to Warrick, Rebecca and their now three children as well as Greg and Morgan. Aurora continued to travel the world and Eli had joined her on many of her excursions, studying climate change in many of the same terrains. As she looked for clues from the past, Eli studied the ways of our future.

Sara's life was filled with joy all around her. She'd taken up a part-time professorship at Harvard, teach physics in the same halls she was once a student. She watched her Grandchildren grow and learn. The eldest looking just like Gil, the middle-child behaved like him, and the youngest shared his love for bugs—a hobby Warrick had decided to introduce him to.

But each day that went by Sara missed him more. She often replayed the moments of their shared history in her mind. Knowing that in her minds-eye, he'd live on forever. And when the time came for herself, she was ready too. Feeling that she'd experienced all life had to offer, ready to rejoin Gil. Content with the knowledge that despite all odds, despite her upbringing and history, that she'd created a wonderful legacy with Gil to leave behind. Content with the knowledge that she'd had the full human experience.

She closed her eyes and pictured his face. She pictured him the first time she laid eyes on him, in the lecture hall of the Forensic Academy Conference in 1999. The face he made as he turned around at a crime scene to greet her, having her flown in from SF for the Holly Gribbs case. The surprised and softening look in his eyes as she touched his cheek under the pretext of chalk dust. The way his eyes bore into her dirt and garbage covered face when he'd returned from his sabbatical. The way he watched her as she worked, sneaking glances across crime scenes. The way his eyes looked as he spotted her walking down the dock in San Diego—both happy and sad. The way his face lit up when she'd told him she was pregnant with Aurora. They same way his face lit up when she was pregnant with Warrick. And the proud, solid, warm and glowing look that spread across his face with each day they spent together.

She could almost feel with warm tickle of his beard pressed against her cheeks. The soft pads of his fingers grazing across her milky white skin. She smiled softly at the thought and drifted off.


End file.
